BERKELirX 

LIBRARY 

UNIVetSITY  Of 
CALIPOtMlA/ 


HORATIO  ALGER'S    ^ 

J^< 


FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN; 


OR, 


THE  FABM  AND   THE   CAMP. 


BY 

HORATIO    ALGER,  JR., 

AUTHOR  OF  "BAGGED  DICK  SERIES,"  "LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES." 


THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO., 

PHILADELPHIA, 
CHICAGO,  TORONTO. 


IOAN  STACK 

FAMOUS  ALGER  BOOKS. 


RAGGED  DICK  SERIES.  By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.  6  vols.  12mo.  Cloth. 
RAGGED  DICK.  ROUGH  AND  READY. 

FAME  AND  FORTUNE.  BEN  THE  LUGGAGE  BOY. 

MARK  THE  MATCH  BOY.  RUFUS  AND  ROSE. 


TATTERED  TOM   SERIES. 

Cloth.    FIRST  SERIES. 
TATTERED  TOM. 
PAUL  THE  PEDDLER. 

TATTERED  TOM  SERIES. 

JULIUS. 

THE  YOUNG  OUTLAW. 


By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JK.    4  vols.    12mo. 

PHIL  THE  FIDDLER. 
SLOW  AND  SURE. 

4  vols.    12mo.    Cloth.    SECOND  SERIES. 
SAM'S  CHANCE. 
THE  TELEGRAPH  BOY. 


CAMPAIGN  SERIES.    By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.    3  vols. 

FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN.  CHARLIE  CODMAN'S  CRUISE. 

PAUL  PRESCOTT'S  CHARGE. 


LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES. 

Cloth.    FIRST  SERIES. 
LUCK  AND  PLUCK. 
SINK  OR  SWIM. 

LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES. 

TRY  AND  TRUST. 
BOUND  TO  RISE. 

BRAVE  AND  BOLD  SERIES. 

Cloth. 

BRAVE  AND  BOLD. 
JACK'S  WARD. 


By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.  4  vols.  12mo. 

STRONG  AND  STEADY. 
STRIVE  AND  SUCCEED. 


4  vols.    12mo.   Cloth.   SECOND  SERIES. 
RISEN  FROM  THE  RANKS. 
HERBERT  CARTER'S  LEGACY. 

By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.   4  vols.   12mo. 

SHIFTING  FOR  HIMSELF. 
WAIT  AND  HOPE. 


PACIFIC  SERIES.    By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.    4  vols.    12mo. 
THE  YOUNG  ADVENTURER.  THE  YOUNG  EXPLORERS. 

THE  YOUNG  MINER.  BEN'S  NUGGET. 

ATLANTIC  SERIES.     By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.    4  vols. 

THE  YOUNG  CIRCUS  RIDER.  HECTOR'S  INHERITANCE. 

Do  AND  DARE.  HELPING  HIMSELF. 

WAY  TO  SUCCESS  SERIES.  By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.   4  vols.   12mo. 

Cloth. 

BOB  BURTON.  LUKE  WALTON. 

THE  STORE  BOY.  STRUGGLING  UPWARD. 

NEW  WORLD  SERIES.  By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.  3  vols.  12mo.  Cloth. 
DIGGING  FOR  GOLD.      FACING  THE  WORLD.       IN  A  NEW  WORLD. 

Other  Volumes  in  Preparation. 


COPYRIGHT  BY  A.  K  LORING,  1864. 


COPYRIGHT  BY  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.,  1&92. 


A-//MF) 


CHARLES  EDWARD  PAINE 


1M     MCMORT    OF    PLEASANT    HOUKS     PASSED    TOGETHER. 


AT      NAPLES      AND      SORRENTO, 


Cfjts  Uolumt  is  Inscrtbtti, 


•T    BIB    SINCERE    FRIEND 


THE    AUTHOR. 


955 


PREFACE. 


"  FRANK'S  Campaign "  is  the  record  of  a  boy's 
experiences,  by  whom  the  cares  and  responsibili 
ties  of  manhood  are  voluntarily  assumed,  and 
nobly  and  successfully  borne.  He  supplies  his 
father's  place  while  the  latter  is  absent  in  his 
country's  service,  and  is  enabled,  by  a  foitunate 
circumstance,  to  pay  o/F  a  mortgage  resting  on 
the  home  farm. 

Nothing  is  claimed  for  the  young  hero  which 
may  not  be  achieved  by  an  energetic  and  manly 
boy  of  the  same  age.  It  is  hoped  that  the  record 


TI  PREFACE. 

of  Frank's  struggles  and  final  success  may  stimu 
late  the  boys  who  may  read  it  to  manly  endeavor, 
and  to  a  faithful  and  conscientious  discharge  of 
whatever  duties  may  devolve  upon  them. 


CONTENTS. 


1    THE  WAR  MEETING 9 

II.    THE  PRIZE 19 

III.  FRANK  AT  HOME 28 

IV.  FRANK  MAKES  A  PROPOSITION     34 

V.    MR.  RATHBURN  MAKES  A  SPEECH 40 

VI.    MR.  FROST  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND 48 

VII.    LIKE  FATHER,  LIKE  SON     55 

VII I.    DISCOURAGED  AND  ENCOURAGED 60 

IX.    THE  LAST  EVENING  AT  HOME 68 

X.    LITTLE  POMP 76 

XI.    PUNISHING  A  BULLY 84 

XII.   A  LETTER  FROM  THE  CAMP 94 

XIII.  MISCHIEF  ON  FOOT 103 

XIV.  A  RAID  UPON  THE  PIG-PEN 109 

XV.     POMP  BEHAVES  BADLY 118 

XVI.    FRANK  MAKES  A  FRIEND 129 

XVII.    A  SHADE  or  MYSTERY 137 

XVHI.    THANKSGIVING  AT  THE  FARM 14* 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

PAO* 
XIX.    THE  WONDERFUL  TRANSFORMATION ....  151 

XX.    POMP'S  EDUCATION  COMMENCES 163 

XXI.    THE  BATTLE  OF  FBEDERICSBUHG 172 

XXII.  FRANK  BROACHES  A  NEW  PLAN 184 

XXIII.  POMP  TAKES  MRS.  PAYSON  PRISONER 196 

XXIV.  A  CHAPTER  FROM  HARDEE 205 

XXV.    ELECTION  OF  OFFICERS 213 

XXVI.    THE  REBEL  TRAP 228 

XXVII.    POMP'S  LIGHT  INFANTRY  TACTICS 235 

XXVIII.   JOHN  HAYNES  HAS  A  NARROW  ESCAPE <  .  247 

XXIX.    MR.  MORTON'S  STORY 256 

XXX.    FRANK  CALLS  ON  SQUIRE  HAYNES .265 

XXXI.    SQUIRE  HAYNES  SPRINGS  HIS  TRAP ,      .273 

XXXII.    TURNING  THE  TABLES l  >  .282 

XXXIII.    CONCLUSION «&• 


FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN; 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP 


I. 

THE   WAR   MEETING. 

THE  Town  Hall  in  Rossville  stands  on  a  moder 
ate  elevation  overlooking  the  principal  street.  It  is 
generally  open  only  when  a  meeting  has  been  called 
by  the  Selectmen  to  transact  town  business,  or  oc 
casionally  in  the  evening  when  a  lecture  on  Temper 
ance  or  a  political  address  is  to  be  delivered.  Ross- 
ville  is  not  large  enough  to  sustain  a  course  of 
lyceum  lectures,  and  the  towns-people  are  obliged 
to  depend  for  intellectual  nutriment  upon  such  chance 
occasions  as  these.  The  majority  of  the  inhabitants 
being  engaged  in  agricultural  pursuits,  the  popula 
tion  is  somewhat  scattered,  and  the  houses,  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  grouped  around  the  stores,  stand 


10  FKAMV'S  CAMPAIGN;   OR, 

at  respectable  distances,  each  encamped  on  a  farm  of 
its  own. 

One  Wednesday  afternoon,  towards  the  close  of 
September,  18(32,  a  group  of  men  and  boys  might 
have  been  seen  standing  on  the  steps  and  in  the 
entry  of  the  Town  House.  Why  they  had  met  will 
best  appear  from  a  large  placard,  which  had  been 
posted  up  on  barns  and  fences  and  inside  the  village 
store  and  post-office. 

It  ran  as  follows  :  — 

WAR    MEETING  ! 

The  citizens  of  Rossville  are  invited  to  meet  at  the  Town 
Hall,  on  Wednesday,  September  24,  at  3  P.  M.  to  decide  what 
measures  shall  be  taken  towards  raising  the  town's  quota  of 
twenty-five  men,  under  the  recent  call  of  the  President  of  the 
United  States.  All  patriotic  citizens,  who  are  in  favor  of  sus 
taining  the  free  institutions  transmitted  to  us  by  our  fathers, 
are  urgently  invited  to  be  present. 

The  Hon.  Solomon  Stoddard  is  expected  to  address  the  meet 
ing. 

Come  one,  come  all. 

At  the  appointed  hour  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
men  had  assembled  in  the  hall.  They  stood  in 
groups,  discussing  the  recent  call  and  the  general 
management  of  the  war  with  that  spirit  of  indepen 
dent  criticism  which  so  eminently  characterizes  the 
little  democracies  which  make  up  our  New  England 
States. 

"  The  whole  thing  has  been  mismanaged  from  the 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          11 

first,"  remarked  a  sapient-looking  man  with  a  gaunt, 
cadaverous  face,  addressing  two  listeners.  "  The 
Administration  is  corrupt ;  our  generals  are  either 
incompetent  or  purposely  inefficient.  We  haven't 
got  an  officer  that  can  hold  a  candle  to  General  Lee. 
Abram  Lincoln  has  called  for  six  hundred  thousand 
men.  What '11  he  do  with  'ern  when  he  gets  'em? 
Just  nothing  at  all.  They '11  melt  away  like  snow, 
arid  then  he  '11  call  for  more  men.  Give  me  a  third 
of  six  hundred  thousand  and  I  '11  walk  into  Richmond 
in  less  'n  thirty  days." 

A  quiet  smile  played  over  the  face  of  one  of 
the  listeners.  With  a  slight  shade  of  irony  in  hia 
voice  he  said,  "  If  such  are  your  convictions,  Mr. 
Holman,  I  think  it  a  great  pity  that  you  are  not  in 
the  service.  We  need  those  who  have  clear  views 
of  what  is  required  in  the  present  emergency.  Don't 
you  intend  to  volunteer?" 

"  I !  "  exclaimed  the  other  with  lofty  scorn.  "  No 
sir ;  I  wash  my  hands  of  the  whole  matter.  I  ain't 
clear  about  the  justice  of  warring  upon  our  erring 
brethren  at  all.  I  have  no  doubt  they  would  be 
inclined  to  accept  overtures  of  peace  if  accompanied 
with  suitable  concessions.  Still,  if  war  must  be 
waged,  I  believe,  I  could  manage  matters  infinitely 
better  than  Lincoln  and  his  cabinet  have  done." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  well  to  give  them  the  benefit  of 
your  ideas  on  the  subject?"  suggested  the  otHer 
quietly. 


12  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

'"Ahem  !  "  said  Mr.  Holman,  a  little  suspiciously. 
"  What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Frost?" 

"  Only  this,  that  if,  like  you,  I  had  a  definite 
scheme,  which  I  thought  likely  to  terminate  the  war, 
I  should  feel  it  my  duty  to  communicate  it  to  the 
proper  authorities,  that  they  might  take  it  into  con 
sideration." 

"It  wouldn't  do  any  good,"  returned  Holman, 
still  a  little  suspicious  that  he  was  quietly  laughed 
at.  "They're  too  set  in  their  own  ways  to  be 
changed." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  sharp  rap  on  the 
table,  and  a  voice  was  heard,  saying,  "The  meet 
ing  will  please  come  to  order." 

The  buzz  of  voices  died  away,  and  all  eyes  were 
turned  towards  the  speaker's  stand. 

"  It  will  be  necessary  to  select  a  chairman  to  pre 
side  over  your  deliberations,"  was  next  heard.  "Will 
any  one  nominate  ?  " 

"  I  nominate  Dr.  Plunkett,"  came  from  a  man  in 
the  corner. 

The  motion  was  seconded,  and  a  show  of  hands 
resulted  in  favor  of  the  nominee. 

A  gentlemanly  looking  man  with  a  pleasant  face 
advanced  to  the  speaker's  stand,  and  with  a  bow 
made  a  few  remarks  to  this  effect :  — 

"Fellow-citizens:  this  is  new  business  to  me,  as 
you  are  doubtless  aware.  My  professional  engage 
ments  have  not  often  allowed  me  to  take  part  in  the 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          13 

meetings  which  from  time  to  time  you  have  held  in 
this  hall.  On  the  present  occasion,  however,  I  have 
felt  it  to  be  my  duty,  and  the  duty  of  3very  loyal  citi 
zen,  to  show  by  his  presence  how  heartily  he  approves 
the  object  which  has  called  us  together.  The  same 
consideration  will  not  suffer  me  to  decline  the  unex 
pected  responsibility  which  you  have  devolved  upon 
me.  Before  proceeding  further,  I  would  suggest 
that  a  clerk  will  be  needed  to  complete  the  organiza 
tion." 

A  young  man  wr  $  nominated  and  elected  without 
opposition. 

Dr.  Plunkett  again  addressed  the  meeting:  "It 
is  hardly  necessary,"  he  said,  "to  remind  you  of  the 
object  which  has  brought  us  together.  Our  forces 
in  the  field  need  replenishing.  The  Rebellion  has  as 
sumed  more  formidable  proportions  than  we  antici 
pated.  It  is  quite  clear  that  we  cannot  put  it  down 
with  one  hand.  We  shall  need  both.  Impressed 
with  this  conviction,  President  Lincoln  has  made  an 
extraordinary  levy  upon  the  country.  He  feels  that 
it  is  desirable  to  put  down  the  Rebellion  as  speedily 
as  possible,  and  not  suffer  it  to  drag  though  a  series  of 
years.  But  he  cannot  work  single-handed.  The 
loyal  States  must  give  their  hearty  cooperation. 
Our  State,  though  inferior  in  extent  and  population 
to  some  others,  has  not  fallen  behind  in  loyal  devo 
tion.  Nor,  I  believe,  will  Rossville  be  found  want 
ing  in  this  emergency.  Twenty-five  men  have  been 

2 


14  FRAKX'S    CAMPAIGN  ;    Oil, 

called  for.  How  shall  we  get  them?  This  is  the 
question  which  we  are  called  upon  to  consider.  I 
had  hoped  the  Hon.  Solomon  Stoddard  would  be 
here  to  address  you  ;  but  I  regret  to  learn  that  a 
temporary  illness  will  prevent  his  doing  so.  I  trust 
that  those  present  will  not  be  backward  in  express 
ing  their  opinions." 

Mr.  Holman  was  already  on  his  feet.  His  speech 
consisted  of  disconnected  remarks  on  the  general 
conduct  of  the  war,  mingled  with  severe  denuncia 
tion  of  the  Administration. 

He  had  spoken  for  fifteen  minutes  in  this  strain, 
when  the  chairman  interfered ,  — 

"  Your  remarks  are  out  of  order,  Mr.  Holman. 
They  are  entirely  irrelevant  to  the  question." 

Holman  wiped  his  cadaverous  features  with  a  red 
silk  pocket  handkerchief,  and  inquired,  sarcastically, 
' '  Am  I  to  understand  that  freedom  of  speech  is  in 
terdicted  in  this  hall?" 

44  Freedom  of  speech  is  in  order,"  said  the  chair 
man,  calmly,  "  provided  the  speaker  confines  him 
self  to  the  question  under  discussion.  You  have 
spoken  fifteen  minutes  without  once  touching  it." 

"  I  suppose  you  want  me  to  praise  the  Adminis 
tration,"  said  Holman,  evidently  thinking  that  he 
had  demolished  the  chairman.  He  looked  around 
to  observe  what  effect  his  shot  had  produced. 

"  That  would  be  equally  put  of  order,"  ruled  the 
presiding  officer.  tk  We  have  not  assembled  to 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          15 

praise  or  to  censure  the  Administration,  but  to  con 
sider  in  what  manner  we  shall  go  to  work  to  raise 
our  quota." 

Hoi  man  sat  down  with  the  air  of  a  martyr. 

Mr.  Frost  rose  next.  It  is  unnecessary  to  report 
his  speech.  It  was  plain,  practical,  and  to  the  point. 
He  recommended  that  the  town  appropriate  a  certain 
sum  as  bounty  money  to  volunteers.  Other  towns 
had  done  so,  and  he  thought  with  good  reason.  It 
would  undoubtedly  draw  in  recruits  more  rapidly. 

A  short,  stout,  red-faced  man,  wearing  gold  spec 
tacles,  rose  hastily. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,"  he  commenced,  "  I  oppose  that 
suggestion.  I  think  it  calculated  to  work  serious 
mischief.  Do  our  young  men  need  to  be  hired  to 
fight  for  their  country?  I  suppose  that  is  what  you 
call  patriotism.  For  my  part,  I  trust  the  town  will 
have  too  much  good  sense  to  agree  to  any  such 
proposition.  The  consequence  of  it  would  be  to 
plunge  us  into  debt,  and  increase  our  taxes  to  a 
formidable  amount." 

It  may  be  remarked  that  Squire  Haynes,  the 
speaker,  was  the  wealthiest  man  in  town,  and  of 
course  would  be  considerably  affected  by  increased 
taxation.  Even  now  he  never  paid  his  annual  tax- 
bill  without  an  inward  groan,  feeling  that  it  was  so 
much  deducted  from  the  sum  total  of  his  property. 

Mr.  Frost  remained  standing  while  Squire  Haynea 
was  speaking,  and  at  the  close  continued  his  speech : 


16  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"  Squire  Haynes  objects  that  my  proposition,  if 
adopted,  will  make  our  taxes  heavier.  I  grant  it ; 
but  how  can  we  expect  to  carry  on  this  gigantic  war 
without  personal  sacrifices?  If  they  only  come  in 
the  form  of  money,  we  may  count  ourselves  fortu 
nate.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  there  is  not  a  man 
here  present  who  does  not  approve  the  present  war, 
—  who  does  not  feel  that  we  are  waging  it  for  good 
and  sufficient  reasons." 

Here  Mr.  Holman  moved  uneasily  in  his  seat,  and 
seemed  on  the  point  of  interrupting  the  speaker,  but 
for  some  reason  forebore. 

"  Such  being  the  case,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  the 
burden  ought  to  fall  upon  the  entire  community,  and 
not  wholly  upon  any  particular  portion.  The  heavi 
est  sacrifices  must  undoubtedly  be  made  by  those  who 
leave  their  homes  and  peril  life  and  limb  on  the  bat 
tle-field.  When  I  propose  that  you  should  lighten 
that  sacrifice  so  far  as  it  lies  in  your  power,  by  vot 
ing  them  a  bounty,  it  is  not  because  I  consider  that 
money  will  compensate  them  for  the  privations  they 
must  encounter  and  the  perils  they  will  incur.  For 
that,  they  must  look  to  the  satisfaction  that  will  arise 
from  the  feeling  that  they  have  responded  to  their 
country's  call,  and  done  something  to  save  from  ruin 
the  institutions  which  our  fathers  transmitted  as  a 
sacred  trust  to  their  descendants.  Money  cannot 
pay  for  loss  of  life  or  limb.  But  some  of  them  leave 
families  behind.  It  is  not  right  that  these  families 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          17 

should  suffer  because  the  fathers  have  devoted  them 
selves  to  the  sacred  cause  of  liberty.  When  our  sol 
diers  go  forth,  enable  them  to  feel  that  their  wives 
and  children  shall  not  lack  for  the  necessaries  of  life. 
The  least  that  those  who  are  privileged  to  stay  at 
home  can  do  is  to  tax  their  purses  for  this  end." 

"  Mr.  Chairman, "said  Squire Haynes, sarcastically, 
"  I  infer  that  the  last  speaker  is  intending  to  enlist." 

Mr.  Frost's  face  flushed  at  this  insinuation. 

"  Squire  Haynes  chooses  to  impute  to  me  inter 
ested  motives.  I  need  enter  into  no  defence  before 
an  audience  to  whom  I  am  well  known.  I  will  only 
inquire  whether  interested  motives  have  nothing  to 
do  with  his  opposition  to  voting  bounties  to  our  sol 
diers?" 

This  was  such  a  palpably  hit  that  Squire  Haynes 
winced  under  it,  and  his  red  face  turned  redder  as  he 
saw  the  smiles  of  those  about  him. 

"Impudent  puppy!"  he  muttered  to  himself; 
"he  seems  to  forget  that  I  have  a  mortgage  of 
eight  hundred  dollars  on  his  farm.  When  the  time 
comes  to  foreclose  it,  I  will  show  him  no  mercy* 
I  '11  sell  him  up,  root  and  branch  !  " 

Mr.  Frost  could  not  read  the  thoughts  that  were 

O 

passing  through  the  mind  of  his  creditor.  They 
might  have  given  him  a  feeling  of  uneasiness,  but 
would  not  in  the  least  have  influenced  his  action. 
He  was  a  man  loyal  to  his  own  convictions  of  duty, 
and  no  apprehension  of  personal  loss  would  have 
2* 


18 


prevented  his  speaking  in  accordance  with  what  he 
felt  to  be  right. 

The  considerations  which  had  been  urged  were  so 
reasonable,  that  the  voters  present,  with  very  little 
opposition,  voted  to  pay  one  hundred  and  fifty  dol 
lars  to  each  one  who  was  willing  to  enlist  as  one  of 
the  town's  quota.  A  list  was  at  once  opened,  and 
after  the  close  of  the  meeting  four  young  men  came 
forward  and  put  down  their  names,  amid  the  applause 
of  the  assembly. 

'*  I  wranted  to  do  it  before,"  said  John  Drake,  one 
of  the  number,  to  Mr.  Frost,  "but  I've  got  a  wife 
and  two  little  children  dependent  upon  me  for  support. 
I  could  n't  possibly  support  them  out  of  my  thirteen 
dollars  a  month,  even  with  the  State  aid.  But  your 
motion  has  decided  me.  I  could  do  better  by  stay 
ing  at  home,  even  with  that ;  but  that  isn't  the  ques 
tion.  I  want  to  help  my  country  in  this  hour  of  her 
need  ;  and  now  that  my  mind  is  at  ease  about  my 
family,  I  shall  cheerfully  enter  the  service." 

"  And  I  know  of  no  one  who  will  make  a  better 
soldier  !  "  said  Mr.  Frost,  heartily. 


II. 

THE    PRIZE. 

A  FEW  rods  distant  from  the  Town  Hall,  but  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  stood  the  Rossville 
Academy.  It  had  been  for  some  years  under  the 
charge  of  James  Rathburn,  A.  M.,  a  thorough 
scholar  and  a  skilful  teacher.  A  large  part  of  his 
success  was  due  to  his  ability  in  making  the  ordinary 
lessons  of  the  schoolroom  interesting  to  his  scholars. 

Some  forty  students  attended  the  Academy,  mostly 
from  the  town  of  Rossville.  Mr.  Rathburn,  how 
ever,  received  a  few  boarders  into  his  family. 

There  were  three  classes  in  the  Latin  language ; 
but  the  majority  of  those  who  had  taken  it  up  stop 
ped  short  before  they  had  gone  beyond  the  Latin 
Reader.  One  class,  however,  had  commenced  read 
ing  the  ^Eneid  of  Virgil,  and  was  intending  to  pur 
sue  the  full  course  of  preparation  for  college ;  though 
in  regard  to  one  member  of  the  class  there  was  some 
doubt  whether  he  would  be  able  to  enter  college. 
As  this  boy  is  to  be  our  hero  we  will  take  a  closer 
look  at  him. 

Frank  Frost  is  at  this  time  in  his  sixteenth  year. 
He  is  about  the  medium  size,  compactly  made,  and 


20  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

the  healthful  color  in  his  cheeks  is  good  evidence 
that  he  is  not  pursuing  his  studies  at  the  expense  of 
his  health.  He  has  dark  chestnut  hair,  with  a  slight 
wave,  and  is  altogether  a  fine-looking  boy. 

At  a  desk  behind  him  sits  John  Haynes,  the  son 
of  Squire  Haynes,  introduced  in  our  last  chapter. 
He  is  nearly  two  years  older  than  Frank,  and  about 
as  opposite  to  him  in  personal  appearance  as  can  well 
be  imagined.  He  has  a  thin  face,  very  black  hair, 
is  tall  of  his  age,  and  already  beginning  to  feel  him 
self  a  young  man.  His  manner  is  full  of  pretension. 
He  never  forgets  that  his  father  is  the  richest  man  in 
town,  and  can  afford  to  give  him  advantages  superior 
to  those  possessed  by  his  school-fellows.  He  has  a 
moderate  share  of  ability,  but  is  disinclined  to  work 
hard.  His  affectation  of  superiority  makes  him  as 
unpopular  among  his  school-fellows  as  Frank  is 
popular. 

These  two  boys,  together  with  Henry  Tufts,  con 
stitute  the  preparatory  class  of  liossville  Academy. 
Henry  is  mild  in  his  manners,  and  a  respectable  stu 
dent,  but  possesses  no  positive  character.  He  comes 
from  a  town  ten  miles  distant,  and  boards  with  the 
Principal.  Frank,  though  the  youngest  of  the  three, 
excels  the  other  two  in  scholarship.  But  there  is 
some  doubt  whether  he  will  be  able  to  go  to  college. 
His  father  is  in  moderate  circumstances,  deriving  a 
comfortable  subsistence  from  a  small  farm,  but  is 
able  to  lay  by  a  very  small  surplus  every  year,  and 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          21 

this  he  feels  it  necessary  to  hold  in  reserve  for  the 
liquidation  of  the  mortgage  held  by  Squire  Haynes. 
Frank's  chance  of  attaining  what  he  covets  —  a  col 
lege  education  —  seems  small ;  but  he  is  resolved  at 
least  to  prepare  for  college,  feeling  that  even  this 
will  constitute  a  very  respectable  education. 

The  reader  is  introduced  to  the  main  schoolroom 
of  the  Rossville  Academy  on  the  morning  of  the  day 
on  which  the  war  meeting  takes  place. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  bell  rang,  and  the  scholars 
took  their  seats.  After  the  preliminary  devotional 
exercise,  Mr.  Rathburn,  instead  of  calling  up  the 
first  class  at  once,  paused  a  moment,  and  spoke  as 
follows  :  — 

"  Scholars,  I  need  not  remind  you  that  on  the  first 
day  of  the  term,  with  the  design  of  encouraging  you 
to  aim  at  improvement  in  English  composition,  I 
offered  two  prizes,  —  one  for  the  best  essay  written 
by  a  boy  over  fourteen  years  of  age ;  the  other  for 
the  best  composition  by  any  one  under  that  age.  It 
gives  me  pleasure  to  state  that  in  most  of  those  sub 
mitted  to  me  I  recognize  merit,  and  I  should  be  glad 
if  it  were  in  my  power  to  give  three  times  as  many 
prizes.  Those  of  you,  however,  who  are  unsuccess 
ful  will  feel  repaid  by  the  benefit  you  have  your 
selves  derived  from  the  efforts  you  have  made  for 
another  end." 

During  this  address,  John  Haynes  looked  about 
him  with  an  air  of  complacency  and  importance. 


22  FKAXK'S   CAMPAIGN  ;    OR, 

He  felt  little  doubt  that  his  own  essay  on  the 
"  Military  Genius  of  Xapoleon"  would  win  the 
prize.  He  did  not  so  much  care  for  this,  except 
for  the  credit  it  would  give  him.  But  his  father, 
who  was  ambitious  for  him,  had  promised  him  twen 
ty-five  dollars  if  he  succeeded,  and  he  had  already 
appropriated  this  sum  in  imagination.  He  had  de 
termined  to  invest  it  in  a  handsome  boat  which  he 
had  seen  for  sale  in  Boston  on  his  last  visit  to  that 
city. 

"  After  careful  consideration,"  continued  the 
teacher,  "  I  have  decided  that  the  prize  should 
be  adjudged  to  an  essay  entitled,  '  The  Duties  of 
Boys  in  the  present  National  Crisis,'  written  by 
Frank  Frost." 

There  was  a  general  clapping  of  hands  at  this 
announcement.  Frank  was  a  general  favorite,  and 
even  his  disappointed  rivals  felt  a  degree  of  satis 
faction  in  feeling  that  he  had  obtained  the  prize. 

There  was  one  exception,  however.  John  Haynes 
turned  pale,  and  then  red,  with  anger  and  vexation. 
He  scowled  darkly  while  the  rest  of  the  boys  were 
applauding,  and  persuaded  himself  that  he  was  the 
victim  of  a  great  piece  of  injustice. 

Frank's  face  flushed  with  pleasure,  and  his  eyes 
danced  with  delight.  He  had  made  a  great  effort  to 
succeed,  and  he  knew  that  at  home  they  would  be 
very  happy  to  hear  that  the  prize  had  been  awarded 
to  him. 


THE  FAEM  AND  THE  CAMP.          23 

"  Frank  Frost  will  come  forward,"  said  Mr. 
Rathburn. 

Frank  left  his  seat,  and  advanced  modestly.  Mr. 
Rathburn  placed  in  his  hand  a  neat  edition  of  Whit- 
tier's  Poems  in  blue  and  gold. 

"  Let  this  serve  as  an  incentive  to  renewed  effort," 
he  said. 

The  second  prize  was  awarded  to  one  of  the  girls. 
As  she  has  no  part  in  our  story,  we  need  say  nothing 
more  on  this  point. 

At  recess,  Frank's  desk  was  surrounded  by  his 
schoolmates,  who  were  desirous  of  examining  the 
prize  volumes.  All  expressed  hearty  good  will, 
congratulating  him  on  his  success,  with  the  exception 
of  John  Haynes. 

"  You  seem  mighty  proud  of  your  books,  Frank 
Frost,"  said  he  with  a  sneer.  "  We  all  know  that 
you're  old  Rathburn's  favorite.  It  didn't  make  much 
difference  what  you  wrote,  as  long  as  you  were  sure 
of  the  prize." 

"  For  shame,  John  Haynes!"  exclaimed  little 
Harvey  Grover,  impetuously.  "  You  only  say  that 
because  you  wanted  the  prize  yourself,  and  you're 
disappointed." 

"  Disappointed  !  "  retorted  John,  scornfully.  "  I 
don 't  want  any  of  old  Rathburn's  sixpenny  books. 
I  can  buy  as  many  as  I  please.  If  he  'd  given  'em 
to  me,  I  should  have  asked  him  to  keep'  em  for  those 
who  needed  'em  more." 


24  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

Frank  was  justly  indignant  at  the  unfriendly  course 
which  John  chose  to  pursue,  but  feeling  that  it  pro 
ceeded  from  disappointed  rivalry,  he  wisely  said  noth 
ing  to  increase  his  exasperation.  He  put  the  two 
books  carefully  away  in  his  desk,  and  settled  himself 
quietly  to  his  day's  lessons. 

It  was  not  until  evening  that  John  and  his  father 
met.  Both  had  been  chafed,  —  the  first  by  his  dis 
appointment,  the  second  by  the  failure  of  his  effort 
to  prevent  the  town's  voting  bounties  to  volunteers. 
In  particular  he  was  incensed  with  Mr.  Frost,  for  his 
imputation  of  interested  motives,  although  it  was 
only  in  return  for  a  similar  imputation  brought 
against  himself. 

"Well,  father,  I  didn't  get  the  prize,"  commenced 
John,  in  a  discontented  voice. 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  you,"  said  his  father, 
coldly.  "  You  might  have  gained  it  if  you  had  made 
an  effort." 

"No,  I  couldn't.  Rathburn  was  sure  to  give  it 
to  his  favorite." 

*  *  And  who  is  his  favorite  ? "  questioned  Squire 
Haynes,  not  yet  siding  with  his  son. 

"  Frank  Frost,  to  be  sure." 

"Frank  Frost!"  repeated  the  Squire,  rapidly 
wheeling  round  to  his  son's  view  of  the  matter.  His 

o 

dislike  of  the  father  was  so  great  that  it  readily  in 
cluded  the  son .  * '  Wha,t  makes  you  think  he  is  the 
teacher's  favorite?" 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  JAMP.          25 

"  O,  Rnthburn  is  always  praising  him  for  some 
thing  or  other.  All  the  boys  know  Frank  Frost  is 
his  pet.  You  wont  catch  him  praising  me,  if  I  work 
ever  so  hard." 

John  did  not  choose  to  mention  that  he  had  not 
yet  tried  this  method  of  securing  the  teacher's  ap 
proval. 

"Teachers  should  never  have  favorites,"  said  the 
Squire,  dogmatically.  "It  is  highly  detrimental  to  a 
teacher's  influence,  and  subversive  of  the  principles 
of  justice.  Have  you  got  your  essay  with  you, 
John?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  You  may  sit  down  and  read  it  to  me,  and  if  I 
think  it  deserving,  I  will  take  care  that  you  shan't 
lose  by  the  teacher's  injustice." 

John  readily  obeyed.  He  hurried  up  to  his  cham 
ber,  and  opening  his  writing-desk  took  out  a  sheet  of 
foolscap,  three  sides  of  which  were  written  over. 
This  he  brought  down  stairs  with  him.  He  began  to 
hope  that  he  might  get  the  boat  after  all. 

The  Squire,  in  dressing-gown  and  slippers,  sat  in 
a  comfortable  arm-chair,  while  John  in  a  consequen 
tial  manner  read  his  rejected  essay.  It  was  super 
ficial  and  commonplace,  and  abundantly  marked  with 
pretension,  but  to  the  Squire's  warped  judgment  it 
seemed  to  have  remarkable  merit. 

"  It  does  you  great  credit,  John,"  said  he  emphat 
ically.  "  I  don't  know  what  sort  of  an  essay  young 
3 


26  FUAXK'S  CAMPAIGN  ,  OR, 

Frost  wrote,  but  I  venture  to  say  it  was  not  as  good. 
If  he's  anything  like  his  father,  he  is  an  impertinent 
jackanapes." 

John  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  listened  attentively. 

"  He  grossly  insulted  me  at  the  town-meeting  to 
day,  and  I  shan't  soon  forget  it.  It  isn't  for  his 
interest  to  insult  a  man  who  has  the  power  to  annoy 
him  that  I  possess." 

* '  Have  n't  you  got  a  mortgage  on  his  farm  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  at  a  proper  time  I  shall  remind  him  of 
it.  But  to  come  back  to  your  own  affairs.  What 
was  the  prize  given  to  young  Frost  ?  " 

"  A  blue  and  gold  copy  of  Whittier's  Poems,  in 
two  volumes." 

"  Plain  binding,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Very  well.  The  next  time  I  go  to  Boston,  I 
will  buy  you  the  same  thing  bound  in  calf.  1 
don't  intend  that  you  shall  suffer  by  your  teacher's 
injustice." 

"  It  wasn't  so  much  the  prize  that  I  cared  for," 
said  John,  who  felt  like  making  the  most  of  his 
father's  favorable  mood,  "  but  you  know  you  prom 
ised  me  twenty-five  dollars  if  I  gained  it." 

44  And  as  you  have  been  defrauded  of  it,  I  will 
give  you  thirty  instead,"  said  the  Squire,  promptly. 

John's  eyes  sparkled  with  delight.  "  O,  thank 
you,  sir  t "  he  said.  "  I  would  n't  change  places  with 
Frank  Frost  now  for  all  his  prize." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          27 

'*  I  should  think  not,  indeed,"  said  the  Squire, 
pompously.  "Your  position  as  the  son  of  a  poor 
fanner  would  n't  be  quite  so  high  as  it  is  now." 

As  he  spoke  he  glanced  complacently  at  the  hand- 
Fome  furniture  which  sumunded  him,  the  choice 
engravings  which  hung  on  the  walls,  and  the  full- 
length  mirror  in  which  his  figure  was  reflected.  « <  Ten 
years  from  now  Frank  Frost  will  be  only  a  common 
laborer  on  his  father's  farm,  —  that  is,"  he  added  sig 
nificantly,  "  if  his  father  manages  to  keep  it;  while 
you,  I  hope,  will  be  winning  distinction  at  the  bar." 

Father  and  son  were  in  a  congenial  mood  that 
evening,  and  a  common  hatred  drew  them  more 
closely  together  than  mutual  affection  had  ever  done. 
They  were  very  much  alike, — both  cold,  calculating, 
and  selfish.  The  Squire  was  indeed  ambitious  for 
his  son,  but  could  hardly  be  said  to  love  him,  since 
he  was  incapable  of  feeling  a  hearty  love  for  any  one 
except  himself. 

As  for  John,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he  regarded 
his  father  chiefly  as  one  from  whom  he  might  expect 
future  favors.  His  mother  had  been  a  good,  though 
not  a  strong-minded  woman,  and  her  influence  might 
have  been  of  advantage  to  her  son ;  but  unhappily 
she  had  died  when  John  was  in  his  tenth  year,  and 
since  then  he  had  became  too  much  like  his  father. 


m. 

FRANK   AT   HOME. 

MK.  FROST'S  farm  was  situated  about  three  quar 
ter's  of  a  mile  from  the  village.  It  comprised  fifty 
acres,  of  which  twenty  were  suitable  for  tillage,  the 
remainder  being  about  equally  divided  between  wood 
land  and  pasture. 

Mr.  Frost  had  for  some  years  before  his  marriage 
been  a  painter,  and  had  managed  to  save  up  from 
his  earnings  not  far  from  a  thousand  dollars.  Think 
ing,  however,  that  farming  would  be  more  favorable 
to  health,  he  purchased  his  fifty  acre  farm  for  twenty- 
eight  hundred  dollars,  payable  one  thousand  down, 
and  the  rest  remaining  on  mortgage.  At  the  date 
of  our  story  he  had  succeeded  in  paying  up  the  entire 
amount  within  eight  hundred  dollars,  a  mortgage  for 
that  amount  being  held  by  Squire  Haynes.  He  had 
not  been  able  to  accomplish  this  without  strict  econ 
omy,  in  which  his  wife  had  cheerfully  aided  him. 

But  his  family  had  grown  larger  and  more  expen 
sive.  Besides  Frank,  who  was  the  oldest,  there 
were  now  three  younger  children,  —  Alice,  twelve 
years  of  age ;  Maggie,  ten ;  and  Charlie,  seven. 

The  farmhouse  was   small  but  comfortable,  and 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP          29 

the  family  had  never  been  tempted  to  sigh  for  a  more 
costly  or  luxurious  home.  They  were  happy  and 
contented,  and  this  made  their  home  attractive. 

On  the  evening  succeeding  that  of  the  war  meet 
ing,  Frank  was  seated  in  the  common  sitting-room 
with  his  father  and  mother.  There  was  a  well-worn 
carpet  on  the  floor,  a  few  plain  chairs  were  scattered 
about  the  room,  and  in  the  corner  ticked  one  of  the 
old-fashioned  clocks  such  as  used  to  be  the  pride  of 
our  New  England  households.  In  the  centre  of  the 
room  stood  a  round  table,  on  which  had  been  set  a 
large  kerosene  lamp,  which  diffused  a  cheerful  light 
about  the  apartment. 

On  a  little  table,  over  which  hung  a  small  mirror, 
were  several  papers  and  magazines.  Economical  in 
most  things,  Mr.  Frost  was  considered  by  many  of 
his  neighbors  extravagant  in  this.  He  subscribed 
regularly  for  Harper's  Magazine  and  Weekly,  a  weekly 
agricultural  paper,  a  daily  paper,. and  a  child's  mag 
azine. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  afford  to  buy  so  much 
reading  matter,"  said  a  neighbor,  one  day.  '*  It 
must  cost  you  a  sight  of  money.  As  for  me,  I  only 
take  a  weekly  paper,  and  I  think  I  shall  have  to  give 
that  up  soon." 

' '  All  my  papers  and  magazines  cost  me  in  a  year, 
including  postage,  is  less  than  twenty  dollars,"  said 
Mr.  Frost,  quietly.  "  A  very  slight  additional  econ 
omy  in  dress,  — say  three  dollars  a  year  to  each  of 
8* 


30  FRAXK'S    CAMPAIGN  ;    OR, 

us,  —  will  pay  that.  I  think  my  wife  would  rathei 
make  her  bonnet  wear  doubly  as  long  than  give  up  a 
single  one  of  our  papers.  When  you  think  of  the 
comparative  amount  of  pleasure  given  by  a  paper 
that  comes  to  you  fifty-two  times  in  a  year,  and  a 
little  extra  extravagance  in  dress,  I  think  you  will 
decide  in  favor  of  the  paper." 

"  But  when  you've  read  it,  you  haven't  anything 
to  show  for  your  money." 

"  And  when  clothes  are  worn  out  you  may  say 
the  same  of  them.  But  we  value  both  for  the  good 
they  have  done,  and  the  pleasure  they  have  afforded. 
I  have  always  observed  that  a  family  where  papers 
arid  magazines  are  taken  is  much  more  intelligent 
and  well-informed  than  where  their  bodies  are  clothed 
at  the  expense  of  their  minds.  Our  daily  paper  is 
the  heaviest  item ;  but  I  like  to  know  what  is  pass 
ing  in  the  world,  and,  besides,  I  think  I  more  than 
defray  the  expense  by  the  knowledge  I  obtain  of  the 
markets.  At  what  price  did  you  sell  your  apples 
last  year  ?  " 

"  At  one  dollar  and  seventy-five  cents  per  barrel." 

"  And  I  sold  forty  barrels  at  two  dollars  per  bar 
rel.  I  found  from  my  paper  that  there  was  reason 
to  expect  an  increase  in  the  price,  and  held  on.  By 
so  doing  I  gained  ten  dollars,  which  more  than  paid 
the  expense  of  my  paper  for  the  year.  So  even  in 
a  money  way  I  was  paid  for  my  subscription.  No, 
neighbor,  though  I  have  good  reason  to  economize. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         31 

I  don't  care  to  economize  in  that  direction.  I  want 
my  children  to  grow  up  intelligent  citizens.  Let  me 
advise  you,  instead  of  stopping  your  only  paper,  to 
subscribe  for  two  or  three  more." 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  the  irresolute  reply.  "  It 
was  pretty  lucky  about  the  apples ;  but  it  seems  a 
good  deal  to  pay.  As  for  my  children,  they  don't 
get  much  time  to  read.  They've  got  to  earn  their 
livin',  and  that  ain't  done  by  settin'  down  and 
readin'." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Mr.  Frost. 
"  Education  often  enables  a  man  to  make  money." 

The  reader  may  have  been  surprised  at  the  ease 
with  which  Mr.  Frost  expressed  himself  in  his  speech 
at  the  war  meeting.  No  other  explanation  is  re 
quired  than  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  reading, 
every  day,  well-selected  newspapers.  "  A  man  is 
known  by  the  company  he  keeps." 

"  So  you  gained  the  prize,  Frank?"  said  hia 
father,  approvingly.  "  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it. 
It  does  you  great  credit.  I  hope  none  were  envious 
of  your  success." 

"  Most  of  the  boys  seemed  glad  of  it,"  was  the 
reply ;  ' '  but  John  Haynes  was  angry  because  he 
did  n't  get  it  himself.  He  declared  that  I  succeeded 
only  because  I  was  a  favorite  with  Mr.  Rathburn." 

44 1  am  afraid  he  has  not  an  amiable  disposition. 
However,  we  must  remember  that  his  home  influ 
ences  have  n't  been  the  best.  His  mother's  death 
was  unfortunate  for  him." 


32  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

'  *  I  heard  at  the  store  that  you  and  Squire  Haynes 
had  a  discussion  at  the  war  meeting,"  said  Frank, 
inquiringly.  "  How  was  it,  father?" 

"  It  was  on  the  question  of  voting  a  bounty  to 
our  volunteers.  I  felt  that  such  a  course  would  be 
only  just.  The  Squire  objected  on  the  ground  that 
our  taxes  would  be  considerably  increased." 

' '  And  how  did  the  town  vote  ?  " 

"  They  sustained  my  proposition,  much  to  the 
Squire's  indignation.  He  doesn't  seem  to  feel  that 
any  sacrifices  ought  to  be  expected  of  him." 

"  What  is  the  prospect  of  obtaining  the  men, 
father?" 

"  Four  have  already  enlisted,  but  twenty-one  are 
still  required.  I  fear  there  will  be  some  difficulty  in 
obtaining  the  full  number.  In  a  farming  town  like 
ours  the  young  men  are  apt  to  go  off  to  other  places 
as  soon  as  they  are  old  enough  ;  so  that  the  lot  must 
fall  upon  some  who  have  families." 

Frank  sat  for  some  minutes  gazing  thoughtfully 
into  the  wood  fire  that  crackled  in  the  fireplace. 

"  I  wish  I  was  old  enough  to  go,  father,"  he  said, 
at  length. 

"  I  wish  you  were,"  said  his  father,  earnestly. 
"  Not  that  it  would  n't  be  hard  to  send  you  out  into 
the  midst  of  perils ;  but  our  duty  to  our  country 
ought  to  be  paramount  to  our  personal  preferences." 

"  There's  another  reason,"  he  said,  after  a  while, 
"  why  I  wish  you  were  older.  You  could  take  my 
place  on  the  farm,  and  leave  me  free  to  enlist.  I 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          33 

should  have  no  hesitation  in  going.  I  have  not  for 
gotten  that  my  grandfather  fought  at  Bunker  Hill." 

"I  know,  father,"  said  Frank,  nodding;  "and 
that 's  his  musket  that  hangs  up  in  your  room,  is  n't 
it?" 

* '  Yes ;  it  was  his  faithful  companion  for  three 
years.  I  often  think  with  pride  of  his  services.  I 
have  been  trying  to  think  all  day  whether  I  could  n't 
make  some  arrangement  to  have  the  farm  carried  on 
in  my  absence ;  but  it  is  very  hard  to  obtain  a  per 
son  in  whom  I  could  confide." 

"If  I  were  as  good  a  manager  as  some,"  said 
Mrs.  Frost,  with  a  smile,  "  I  would  offer  to  be  your 
farmer ;  but  I  am  afraid  that,  though  my  intentions 
would  be  of  the  best,  things  would  go  on  badly  un 
der  my  administration." 

"You  have  enough  to  do  in  the  house,  Mary," 
said  her  husband.  I  should  not  wish  you  to  under 
take  the  additional  responsibility,  even  if  you  were 
thoroughly  competent.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to 
give  up  the  idea  of  going." 

Mr.  Frost  took  up  the  evening  paper.  Frank 
continued  to  look  thoughtfully  into  the  fire,  as  if 
revolving  something  in  his  mind.  Finally  he  rose, 
and  lighting  a  candle  went  up  to  bed.  But  he  did 
not  go  to  sleep  for  some  time.  A  plan  had  occurred 
to  him,  and  he  was  considering  its  feasibility. 

"  I  think  I  could  do  it,"  he  said,  at  last,  turning 
over  and  composing  himself  to  sleep.  "I'll  speak 
to  father  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning." 


IV. 

PRANK    MAKES   A   PROPOSITION. 

WHEN  Frank  woke  the  next  morning  the  sun  was 
shining  into  his  window.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
tried  to  think  what  it  was  that  had  occupied  his  mind 
the  night  before.  It  came  to  him  in  a  moment,  and 
jumping  out  of  bed  he  dressed  himself  with  unusual 
expedition. 

Hurrying  down  stairs,  he  found  his  mother  in  the 
kitchen,  busily  engaged  in  getting  breakfast. 

"  Where 's  father?  "  he  asked. 

"  He  hasn't  come  in  from  the  barn  yet,  Frank," 
his  mother  answered.  "  You  can  have  your  break 
fast  now,  if  you  are  in  a  hurry  to  get  to  studying." 

"  Nevermind,  just  now,  mother," returned  Frank. 
"  I  want  to  speak  to  father  about  something." 

Taking  his  cap  from  the  nail  in  the  entry  where  it 
usually  hung,  Frank  went  out  to  the  barn.  He  found 
that  his  father  was  nearly  through  milking. 

"  Is  breakfast  ready?"  asked  Mr.  Frost,  looking 
up.  **  Tell  your  mother  she  needn't  wait  for  me." 

"  It  isn't  ready  yet,"  said  Frank.  "  I  came  out 
because  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  something  very 
particular." 

"  Very  well,  Frank.     Go  on.* 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         35 

"  But  if  you  don't  think  it  a  good  plan,  or  think 
that  I  am  foolish  in  speaking  of  it,  don't  say  anything 
to  anybody." 

Mr.  Frost  looked  at  Frank  in  some  little  curiosity. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  smiling,  "like  our  neighbor 
Holman,  you  have  formed  a  plan  for  bringing  the 
war  to  a  close." 

Frank  laughed.  "I  am  not  quite  so  presump 
tuous,"  he  said.  "You  remember  saying  last  night, 
that  if  I  were  old  enough  to  take  charge  of  the  farm, 
you  would  have  no  hesitation  in  volunteering?" 

"Yes." 

"  Don't  you  think  lam  old  enough  ?  "  asked  Frank, 
eagerly. 

"  Why  you  are  only  fifteen,  Frank,"  returned  his 
father,  in  surprise. 

"  I  know  it,  but  I  am  strong  enough  to  do  consid 
erable  work." 

"  It  isn't  so  much  that  which  is  required.  A  man 
could  easily  be  found  to  do  the  hardest  of  the  work. 
But  somebody  is  needed  who  understands  farming, 
and  is  qualified  to  give  directions.  How  much  do 
you  know  of  that  ?  " 

"  Not  much  at  present,"  answered  Frank,  mod 
estly,  "  but  I  think  I  could  learn  easily.  Besides, 
there  's  Mr.  Maynard,  who  is  a  good  farmer,  could 
advise  me  whenever  I  was  in  doubt,  and  you  could 
write  home  directions  in  your  letters." 

"That  is    true,"   said    Mr.    Frost,   thoughtfully 


36  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

"I  will  promise  to  give  it  careful  consideration. 
But  have  you  thought  that  you  will  be  obliged  to  give 
up  attending  school." 

44  Yes,  father." 

* '  And  of  course  that  will  put  you  back  ;  your  class 
mates  will  get  in  advance  of  you." 

"I  have  thought  of  that,  father,  and  I  shall  be 
very  sorry  for  it.  But  I  think  that  is  one  reason 
why  I  desire  the  plan." 

44  I  don't  understand  you,  Frank,"  said  his  father, 
a  little  puzzled. 

44  You  see,  father,  it  would  require  a  sacrifice  on 
my  part,  and  I  should  feel  glad  to  think  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  making  a  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  ray 
country." 

44  That's  the  right  spirit,  Frank,"  said  his  father, 
approvingly.  "  That's  the  way  my  grandfather  felt 
and  acted,  and  it 's  the  way  I  like  to  see  my  son  feel. 
So  it  would  be  a  great  sacrifice  to  me  to  leave  you 
all." 

44  And  to  us  to  be  parted  from  you,  father,"  said 
Frank. 

44  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,  my  dear  boy,"  said  his 
father,  kindly.  "  We  have  always  been  a  happy  and 
united  family,  and,  please  God,  we  always  shall  be. 
But  this  plan  of  yours  requires  consideration.  I 
will  talk  it  over  with  your  mother  and  Mr.  Maynard, 
and  will  then  come  to  a  decision." 

"  I  was  afraid  you  would  laugh  at  me,"  said 
Frank. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          37 

"  No,"  said  his  father,  "  it  was  a  noble  thought, 
and  does  you  credit.  I  shall  feel  that,  whatever 
course  I  may  think  it  wisest  to  adopt." 

The  sound  of  a  bell  from  the  house  reached  them. 
This  meant  breakfast.  Mr.  Frost  iiad  finished  milk 
ing,  and  with  a  well-filled  pail  in  either  hand,  went 
towards  the  house. 

"  Move  the  milking-stool,  Frank,"  he  said,  looking 
behind  him,  "  or  the  cow  will  kick  it  over." 

Five  minutes  later  they  were  at  breakfast. 

"I  have  some  news  for  you,  Mary,"  said  Mr. 
Frost,  as  he  helped  his  wife  to  a  sausage. 

"  Indeed?"  said  she,  looking  up,  inquiringly. 

* '  Some  one  has  offered  to  take  charge  of  the  farm 
for  me,  in  case  I  wish  to  go  out  as  a  soldier." 

"  Who  is  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Frost,  with  strong  in 
terest 

1 '  A  gentleman  with  whom  you  are  well  —  1  may 
say  intimately  acquainted,"  was  the  smiling  response. 

"  It  is  n't  Mr.  Maynard  ?  " 

"  No.     It  is  some  one  that  lives  nearer  than  he." 

"  How  can  that  be?    He  is  our  nearest  neighbor." 

' '  Then  you  can't  guess  ?  " 

"  No.     I  am  quite  mystified." 

*  *  Suppose  I  should  say  that  it  is  your  oldest  son  ?  " 

"What,  Frank?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Frost,  turning 
from  her  husband  to  her  son,  whose  flushed  face  indi 
cated  how  anxious  he  was  about  his  mother's  favor 
able  opinion. 

4 


38  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

4 'You  have  hit  it." 

"You  were  not  in  earnest,  Frank?"  said  Mrs. 
Frost,  inquiringly. 

"Ask  father." 

"I  think  he  was.     He  certainly  appeared  to  be." 

"  But  what  does  Frank  know  about  farming?" 

"  I  asked  him  that  question,  myself.  He  admitted 
that  he  didn't  know  much  at  present,  but  thought 
that,  with  Mr.  Maynard's  advice,  he  might  get 
along." 

Mrs.  Frost  was  silent  a  moment.  "It  will  be  a 
great  undertaking,"  she  said,  at  last;  "but  if  you 
think  you  can  trust  Frank,  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  help 
him.  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  having  you  go,  yet  I 
am  conscious  that  this  is  a  feeling  which  I  have  no 
right  to  indulge  at  the  expense  of  my  country." 

"  Yes,"  said  her  husband,  seriously.  "  I  feel  that 
I  owe  my  country  a  service  which  I  have  no  right  to 
delegate  to  another,  as  long  as  I  am  able  to  discharge 
it  myself.  I  shall  reflect  seriously  upon  Frank's 
proposition." 

There  was  no  more  said  at  this  time.  Both  Frank 
and  his  parents  felt  that  it  was  a  serious  matter,  and 
not  to  be  hastily  decided. 

After  breakfast  Frank  went  up  stairs,  and  before 
studying  his  latin  lesson,  read  over  thoughtfully  the 
following  passage  in  his  prize  essay  on  *  *  The  Duties 
of  American  Boys  at  the  Present  Crisis." 

"  Now  that  so  large  a  number  of  our  citizens  have 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          39 

been  withdrawn  from  their  families  and  their  ordinary 
business  to  engage  in  putting  down  this  wicked  Re 
bellion,  it  becomes  the  duty  of  the  boys  to  take  their 
places  as  far  as  they  are  aMe  to  do  so.  A  boy  can 
not  wholly  supply  the  place  of  a  man,  but  he  can  do 
so  in  part.  And  where  he  is  not  called  on  to  do  this, 
he  can  so  conduct  himself  that  his  friends  who  are 
absent  may  feel  at  ease  about  him.  He  ought  to  feel 
willing  to  give  up  some  pleasures,  if  by  so  doing  he 
can  help  to  supply  the  places  of  those  who  are  gone. 
If  he  does  this  voluntarily,  and  in  the  right  spirit, 
he  is  just  as  patriotic  as  if  he  were  a  soldier  in  the 
field." 

" 1  didn't  think,"  thought  Frank,  "when  I  wrote 
this,  how  soon  my  words  would  come  back  to  me. 
It  is  n't  much  to  write  the  words.  The  thing  is  to 
stand  by  them.  If  father  should  decide  to  go,  I  will 
do  my  best,  and  then,  when  the  Rebellion  is  over,  I 
shall  feel  that  I  did  something,  even  if  it  was  n't 
much,  towards  putting  it  down." 

Frank  put  his  essay  carefully  away  in  a  bureau- 
drawer  in  which  he  kept  his  clothes,  and,  spreading 
open  his  Latin  lexicon,  proceeded  to  prepare  his  lesson 
in  the  third  book  of  Virgil's 


V. 

MR.    RATHBTJRN   MAKES   A   SPEECH. 

FRANK'S  seat  in  the  schoolroom  was  directly  in 
front  of  that  occupied  by  John  Haynes.  Until  the 
announcement  of  the  prize  John  and  he  had  been  on 
friendly  terms.  They  belonged  to  the  same  class  in 
Latin,  and  Frank  had  often  helped  his  classmate 
through  a  difficult  passage  which  he  had  not  the 
patience  to  construe  for  himself.  Now,  however, 
a  coolness  grew  up  between  them,  originating  with 
John.  He  felt  envious  of  Frank's  success ;  and 
this  feeling  brought  with  it  a  certain  bitterness 
which  found  gratification  in  anything  which  he 
had  reason  to  suppose  would  annoy  Frank. 

On  the  morning  succeeding  the  distribution  of 
the  prizes,  Frank  arrived  at  the  schoolhouse  a  few 
minutes  before  the  bell  rang.  John,  with  half  a 
dozen  other  boys,  stood  near  the  door. 

John  took  off  his  hat  with  mock  deference. 
"  Make  way  for  the  great  prize  essayist,  gentle 
men !"  he  said.  "The  modern  Macaulay  is  ap 
proaching." 

Frank  colored  with  annoyance.  John  did  not 
fail  to  notice  this  with  pleasure.  He  was  sorry, 


THE    FARM   AXI)    TILE    CAMP.  41 

however,  that  none  of  the  other  boys  seemed  in 
clined  to  join  in  the  demonstration.  In  fact,  they 
liked  Frank  much  the  better  of  the  two. 

4 *  That  is  n't  quite  fair,  John,"  said  Frank,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  I  am  always  glad  to  pay  my  homage  to  distin 
guished  talent,"  John  proceeded,  in  the  same  tone. 
"I  feel  how  presumptuous  I  was  in  venturing  to 
compete  with  a  gentleman  of  such  genius  1 " 

"Do  you  mean  to  insult  me?"  asked  Frank, 
growing  angry. 

"O  dear,  no!  I  am  only  expressing  my  high 
opinion  of  your  talents  I  " 

"  Let  him  alone,  John  !  "  said  Dick  Jones.  "  It 
is  n't  his  fault  that  the  teacher  awarded  the  prize  to 
him  instead  of  you." 

* '  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  care  for  that  1  "  said 
John,  snapping  his  fingers.  "He's  welcome  to  his 
rubbishing  books ;  they  don't  amount  to  much,  any 
way.  I  don't  believe  they  cost  more  than  two  dol 
lars  at  the  most.  If  you  'd  like  to  see  what  I  got 
for  my  essay,  I  '11  show  you." 

John  pulled  out  his  port-monnaie,  and  unrolled 
three  new  and  crisp  bank-notes  of  ten  dollars  each. 

"  I  think  that's  pretty  good  pay,"  he  said,  look-  ; 
ing  about  him  triumphantly.     "  I  don't  care  how 
many  prizes  Rathburn  chooses  to  give  his  favorite. 
I  rather  think  I  can  get  along  without  them." 

John's  face  was  turned  towards  the  door,  other- 
4* 


42  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

wise  he  would  have  observed  the  approach  of  the 
teacher,  and  spoken  with  more  caution.  But  it  was 
too  late.  The  words  had  been  spoken  above  his 
ordinary  voice,  and  were  distinctly  heard  by  the 
teacher.  He  looked  sharply  at  John  Haynes,  whose 
glance  fell  before  his,  but  without  a  word  passed  into 
the  schoolroom. 

"  See  if  you  don't  get  a  blowing-up,  John?" 
said  Dick  Jones. 

"  What  do  I  care  I "  said  John,  but  in  a  tone  too 
subdued  to  be  heard  by  any  one  else.  "It  won't 
do  Rathburn  any  harm  to  hear  the  truth  for  once  in 
his  life." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  I'm  not  in  your  place,  that's 
all !  "  replied  Dick. 

"  You  're  easily  frightened  !  "  rejoined  John,  with 
a  sneer. 

Nevertheless,  as  he  entered  the  schoolroom,  and 
walked  with  assumed  bravado  to  his  seat  in  the  back 
part  of  the  room,  he  did  not  feel  quite  so  comfort 
able  as  he  strove  to  appear.  As  he  glanced  stealth 
ily  at  the  face  of  the  teacher,  who  looked  unusually 
stern  and  grave,  he  could  not  help  thinking,  "  I 
wonder  whether  he  will  say  anything  about  it." 

Mr.  Rathburn  commenced  in  the  usual  manner; 
but  after  the  devotional  exercises  were  over,  he 
paused,  and,  after  a  brief  silence,  during  which 
those  who  had  heard  John's  words  listeD£d  with 
earnest  attention,  spoke  as  follows  :  — 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          43 

"  As  I  approached  the  schoolroom  this  morning 
I  chanced  to  catch  some  words  which  I  presume 
were  not  intended  for  my  ear.  If  I  remember 
rightly  they  were,  '  I  don't  care  how  many  prizes 
Rathburn  gives  his  favorite  ! '  There  were  several 
that  heard  them,  so  that  I  can  be  easily  corrected  if 
I  have  made  any  mistake.  Now  I  will  not  affect  to 
misunderstand  the  charge  conveyed  by  these  words. 
I  am  accused  of  assigning  the  prizes,  or  at  least  one 
of  them,  yesterday,  not  with  strict  regard  to  the 
merit  of  the  essays  presented,  but  under  the  influ 
ence  of  partiality.  If  this  is  the  real  feeling  of  the 
speaker,  I  can  only  say  that  I  am  sorry  he  should 
have  so  low  an  opinion  of  me.  I  do  not  believe 
the  scholars  generally  entertain  any  such  suspicion. 
Though  I  may  err  in  judgment,  I  think  that  most 
of  you  will  not  charge  me  with  anything  more  seri 
ous.  If  you  ask  me  whether  a  teacher  has  favorites, 
I  say  that  he  cannot  help  having  them.  He  cannot 
help  making  a  difference  between  the  studious  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  indolent  and  neglectful  on  the 
other.  But  in  a  matter  like  this  I  ask  you  to  believe 
me  when  I  say  that  no  consideration  except  that  of 
merit  is  permitted  to  weigh.  The  boy  who  made 
this  charge  is  one  of  my  most  advanced  scholars,  and 
has  no  reason  to  believe  that  he  would  be  treated 
with  unfairness.  I  do  not  choose  to  say  any  more 
on  this  subject,  except  that  I  have  decided  to  offer 
two  similar  prizes  for  the  two  best  compositions  sub- 


44  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

mitted  within  the  next  four  weeks.  I  shall  assign 
them  to  the  best  of  my  judgment,  without  regard  to 
the  scholarship  of  the  writer." 

Mr.  Rathburn  spoke  in  a  quiet,  dignified  manner, 
which  convinced  all  who  heard  him  of  his  fairness. 
I  say  all,  because  even  John  Haynes  was  persuaded 
against  his  own  will,  though  he  did  not  choose  to 
acknowledge  it.  He  had  a  dogged  obstinacy  which 
would  not  allow  him  to  retract  what  he  had  once 
said.  There  was  an  unpleasant  sneer  on  his  face 
while  the  teacher  was  speaking,  which  he  did  not 
attempt  to  conceal. 

"  The  class  in  Virgil,"  called  Mr.  Rathburn. 

This  class  consisted  of  Frank  Frost,  John  Haynes, 
and  Henry  Tufts.  John  rose  slowly  from  his  seat, 
and  advanced  to  the  usual  place,  taking  care  to  stand 
as  far  from  Frank  as  possible. 

"  You  may  commence,  John,"  said  the  teacher. 

It  was  unfortunate  for  John  that  he  had  been 
occupied,  first,  by  thoughts  of  his  rejected  essay, 
and  afterwards  by  thoughts  of  the  boat  which  he 
proposed  to  buy  with  the  thirty  dollars  of  which  he 
had  become  possessed,  so  that  he  had  found  very  lit 
tle  time  to  devote  to  his  Latin.  Had  he  been  on 
good  terms  with  Frank,  he  would  have  asked  him  to 
read  over  the  lesson,  which,  as  he  was  naturally 
quick,  would  have  enabled  him  to  get  off  passably. 
But,  of  course,  under  the  circumstances,  this  was 
not  to  be  thought  of.  So  he  stumbled  through  two 


THE    FARM   AND    TILE    CAMP.  45 

or  three  sentences,  in  an  embarrassed  manner.  Mr. 
liathburn  at  first  helped  him  along.  Finding,  how 
ever,  that  he  knew  little  or  nothing  of  the  lesson,  he 
quietly  requested  Frank  to  read,  saying,  "  You  don't 
seem  so  well  prepared  as  usual,  John." 

Frank  translated  fluently  and  well,  his  recitation 
forming  a  very  favorable  contrast  to  the  slipshod  at 
tempt  of  John.  This  John,  in  a  spirit  of  unreason 
ableness,  magnified  into  a  grave  offence,  and  a  desire 
to  "  show  off"  at  his  expense. 

"Trying  to  shine  at  my  expense,"  he  muttered. 
Well,  let  him  !  Two  or  three  years  hence,  when  I 
am  in  college,  perhaps  things  may  be  a  little  differ 
ent." 

Frank  noticed  his  repellant  look,  and  it  made  him 
feel  uncomfortable.  He  was  a  warmhearted  boy, 
and  wanted  to  be  on  good  terms  with  everybody. 
Still,  he  could  not  help  feeling  that  in  the  present  in 
stance  he  had  nothing  to  reproach  himself  with. 

John  went  back  to  his  seat  feeling  an  increased 
irritation  against  Frank.  He  could  not  help  seeing 
that  he  was  more  popular  with  his  schoolmates  than 
himself,  and  of  course  this  too  he  considered  a  just 
cause  of  offence  against  him. 

While  he  was  considering  in  what  way  he  could 
slight  Frank,  the  thought  of  the  boat  he  was  about 
to  purchase  entered  his  mind.  He  brightened  up  at 
once,  for  this  suggested  something.  He  knew  how 
much  boys  like  going  out  upon  the  water.  At  pres- 


46  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

ent  there  was  no  boat  on  the  pond.  His  would  hold 
six  or  eight  boys  readily.  He  would  invite  some  of 
the  oldest  boys  to  accompany  him  on  his  first  trip, 
carefully  omitting  Frank  Frost.  The  slight  would 
be  still  more  pointed  because  Frank  was  his  class 
mate. 

When  the  bell  rang  for  recess  he  lost  no  time  in 
carrying  out  the  scheme  he  had  thought  of. 

44  Dick,  "  he  called  out  to  Dick  Jones,  "  I  am 
expecting  my  boat  up  from  Boston  next  Tuesday, 
and  I  mean  to  go  out  in  her  Wednesday  afternoon. 
Would  n't  you  like  to  go  with  me  ?  " 

44  With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,"  said  Dick,  "  and 
thank  you  for  the  invitation." 

*  *  How  many  will  she  hold  ?  " 

44  Eight,  or  ten,  I  expect.  Bob  Ingalls,  would  you 
like  to  go  too  !  " 

The  invitation  was  eagerly  accepted.  John  next 
approached  Henry  Tufts,  who  was  speaking  with 
Frank  Frost. 

Without  even  looking  at  the  latter,  he  asked 
Henry  if  he  would  like  to  go. 

44  Very  much,"  was  the  reply. 

44  Then  I  will  expect  you,  "  he  said.  He  turned 
on  his  heel  and  walked  off  without  taking  any  notice 
of  Frank. 

Frank  blushed,  in  spite  of  himself. 

44  Don't  he  mean  to  invite  you?  "  asked  Henry,  in 
surprise. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          47 

"  It  appears  not,"  said  Frank. 
"  It's  mean  in  him,  then,"  exclaimed  Henry;  "7 
declare,  I  've  a  great  mind  not  to  go." 

"  I  hope  you  will  go,"  said  Frank,  hastily.     "  You 
will  enjoy  it.      Promise  me  you  will  go." 
'*  Would  you  really  prefer  to  have  me?" 
*'  I  should  be  very  sorry  if  you  did  n't." 
"  Then  I  '11  go  ;  but  I  think  he 's  mean  in  not  auk- 
ing  you*  for  all  that." 


VI. 

MR.  FROST  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND. 

"  WELL,  Frank,"  said  his  father  at  supper-time, 
"  JVe  been  speaking  to  Mr.  Maynard  this  afternoon 
about  your  plan." 

"  What  did  he  say?"  asked  Frank,  dropping  his 
knife  and  fork  in  his  eagerness. 

"  After  he  had  thought  a  little,  he  spoke  of  it 
favorably.  He  said  that,  being  too  old  to  go  himself, 
he  should  be  glad  to  do  anything  in  his  power  to 
facilitate  my  going,  if  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  do  so." 

* «  Did  n't  he  think  Frank  rather  young  for  such 
an  undertaking?"  asked  Mrs.  Frost,  doubtfully. 

"  Yes,  he  did;  but  still,  he  thought  with  proper 
advice  and  competent  assistance  he  might  get  along. 
For  the  first,  he  can  depend  upon  Mr.  Maynard  and 
myself;  as  for  the  second,  Mr.  Maynard  suggested  a 
good  man,  who  is  seeking  a  situation  as  farm 
laborer." 

"  Is  it  anybody  in  this  town?  "  asked  Frank. 

4 '  No,  it  is  a  man  from  Brandon,  named  Jacob 
Carter.  Mr.  Maynard  says  he  is  honest,  industri 
ous,  and  used  to  working  on  a  farm.  I  shall  write 
to  him  this  evening." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          49 

"  Then  you  have  decided  to  go  !  "  exclaimed  Frank 
and  his  mother  in  concert. 

"  It  will  depend  in  part  upon  the  answer  I  receive 
from  this  man,  Carter.  I  shall  feel,  if  he  agrees  to 
some,  that  I  can  go  with  less  anxiety." 

"  H<>\\  we  shall  miss  you  !"  said  his  wife,  in  a 
subdued  tone. 

"  And  I  shall  miss  you  quite  as  much.  It  will  be 
a  considerable  sacrifice  for  all  of  us.  Hut  when  my 
country  has  need  of  me,  you  will  feel  that  I  cannot 
honorably  stay  at  home.  As  for  Frank,  he  may 
regard  me  as  his  substitute." 

"  My  substitute  !  "  repeated  Frank,  in  a  question 
ing  tone. 

"Yes,  since  but  for  you,  taking  charge  of  the 
farm,  in  my  absence,  I  should  not  feel  that  I  could 
go." 

Frank  looked  pleased.  It  made  him  feel  that  he 
was  really  of  some  importance.  Boys,  unless  they 
are  incorrigibly  idle,  are  glad  to  be  placed  in  posts 
of  responsibility.  Frank,  though  very  modest,  felt 
within  himself  unused  powers  and  undeveloped  capa 
cities,  which  he  knew  must  be  called  out  by  the 
unusual  circumstances  in  which  he  would  be  placed. 
The  thought  too  that  he  would  be  serving  his  country, 
even  at  home,  filled  him  with  satisfaction. 

After  a  pause,  Mr.  Frost  said:  "There  is  one 
point  on  which  I  still  have  some  doubts.  As  you 
are  all  equally  interested  with  myself,  I  think  it 


50  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

proper  to  ask  your  opinion,  and  shall  abide  by  your 
decision." 

Frank  and  his  mother  listened  with  earnest  atten 
tion. 

*  *  You  are  aware  that  the  town  has  decided  to  give 
a  bounty  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  to  such  as 
may  volunteer  towards  filling  the  quota.  You  may 
remember,  also,  that  although  the  town  passed  the 
vote  almost  unanimously,  it  was  my  proposition,  and 
supported  by  a  speech  of  mine." 

'*  Squire  Haynes  opposed  it,  I  think  you  said, 
father." 

"  Yes,  and  intimated  that  I  urged  the  matter  from 
interested  motives.  He  said  he  presumed  I  intended 
to  enlist." 

* '  As  if  that  sum  would  pay  a  man  for  leaving  hia 
home,  and  incurring  the  terrible  risks  of  war  ! "  ex 
claimed  Mrs.  Frost ,  looking  indignant. 

' '  Very  likely  he  did  not  believe  it  himself ;  but  he 
was  irritated  with  me,  and  it  is  liis  habit  to  impute 
unworthy  motives  to  those  with  whom  he  differs. 
Aside  from  this,  however,  I  shall  feel  some  delicacy 
in  availing  myself  of  a  bounty  which  I  was  instru 
mental  in  persuading  the  town  to  vote.  Though  I 
feel  that  I  should  be  perfectly  justified  in  so  doing,  I 
confess  that  I  am  anxious  not  to  put  myself  in  such  a 
position  as  to  hazard  any  loss  of  good  opinion  on  the 
part  of  my  friends  in  town." 

"  Then  don't  take  it,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  promptly. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          51 

*»  That 's  what  I  say  too,  father,"  chimed  in  Frank. 

"  Don't  decide  too  hastily,"  said  Mr.  Frost. 
*'  Remember  that  in  our  circumstances  this  amount 
of  money  would  be  very  useful.  Although  Frank 
will  do  as  well  as  any  boy  of  his  age,  I  do  not  expect 
him  to  make  the  farm  as  profitable  as  I  should  do, 
partly  on  account  of  my  experience  being  greater, 
and  partly  because  I  should  be  able  to  accomplish 
more  work  than  he.  One  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
would  procure  many  little  comforts  which  otherwise 
you  may  have  to  do  without." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  quickly.  "  But 
do  you  think  I  should  enjoy  them,  if  there  were  re 
ports  circulated,  however  unjustly,  to  your  prejudice? 
Besides,  I  shall  know  that  the  comforts  at  the  camp 
must  be  fewer  than  you  would  enjoy  at  home.  We 
shall  not  wish  to  fare  so  much  better  than  you." 

"  Do  you  think  with  your  mother,  Frank?"  asked 
Mr.  Frost. 

"  I  think  mother  is  right,"  said  Frank,  proud  of 
having  his  opinion  asked.  He  was  secretly  deter 
mined,  in  spite  of  what  his  father  had  said,  to  see  if 
he  could  not  make  the  farm  as  profitable  as  it  would 
be  under  his  father's  management. 

Mr.  Frost  seemed  relieved  by  his  wife's  expression 
of  opinion.  "  Then,"  said  he,  "  I  will  accept  your 
decision  as  final.  I  felt  that  it  should  be  you,  and 
not  myself,  who  should  decide  it.  Now  my  mind 
will  be  at  ease,  so  far  as  that  goes." 


52  FKANK^S    CAMPAIGN  ;    OR, 

4 'You  will  not  enlist  at  once,  father?"  asked 
Frank. 

"Not  for  three  or  four  weeks.  I  shall  wish  to 
give  you  some  special  instructions  before  I  go,  so  that 
your  task  may  be  easier." 

' '  Had  n't  I  better  leave  school  at  once  ?  " 

*'  You  may  finish  this  week  out.  However,  I 
may  as  well  begin  my  instructions  without  delay. 
I  believe  you  have  never  learned  to  milk." 

"No  sir." 

"  Probably  Carter  will  undertake  that.  Still,  it 
will  be  desirable  that  you  should  know  how,  in  case 
he  gets  sick.  You  may  come  out  with  me  after 
supper  and  take  your  first  lesson." 

Frank  ran  for  his  hat  with  alacrity.  This  seemed 
like  beginning  in  earnest.  He  accompanied  his  father 
to  the  barn,  and  looked  with  new  interest  at  the  four 
cows  constituting  his  father's  stock. 

"  I  think  we  will  begin  with  this  one,"  said  his 
father,  pointing  to  a  red  and  white  heifer.  "  She  is 
better-natured  than  the  others,  and,  as  I  dare  say 
your  fingers  will  bungle  a  little  at  first,  that  is  a  point 
to  be  considered." 

If  any  of  my  boy-readers  has  ever  undertaken  the 
task  of  milking  for  the  first  time,  he  will  appreciate 
Frank's  difficulties.  When  he  had  seen  his  father 
milking,  it  seemed  to  him  extremely  easy.  The 
milk  poured  out  in  rich  streams,  almost  without  an 
effort.  But  under  his  inexperienced  fingers  none 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          53 

came.     He  tugged  away  manfully,  but  with  no  re 
sult. 

"  I  guess  the  cow's  dry,"  said  he  at  last,  looking 
up  in  his  father's  face. 

Mr.  Frost  in  reply  drew  out  a  copious  stream. 
"I  did  the  same  as  you,"  said  Frank,  mystified, 
"  and  none  came." 

4 'You  didn't  take  hold  right,"  said  his  father, 
"  and  you  pressed  at  the  wrong  time.  Let  me  show 
you." 

Before  the  first  lesson  was  over  Frank  had  advanc 
ed  a  little  in  the  art  of  milking,  and  it  may  as  well 
be  said  here  that  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  so  he 
became  a  fair  proficient,  so  that  his  father  even 
allowed  him  to  try  Yixen,  a  cow  who  had  received 
this  name  from  the  uncertainty  of  her  temper.  She 
had  more  than  once  upset  the  pail  with  a  spiteful  kick 
when  it  was  nearly  over.  One  morning  she  upset  not 
only  the  pail  but  Frank,  who  looked  foolish  enough 
as  he  got  up  covered  with  milk. 

Frank  also  commenced  reading  the  "  Ploughman,5* 
a  weekly  agricultural  paper  which  his  father  had 
taken  for  years.  Until  now  he  had  confined  his 
readings  in  it  to  the  selected  story  on  the  fourth  page. 
Now,  with  an  object  in  view,  he  read  carefully  other 
parts  of  the  paper.  He  did  this  not  merely  in  the 
first  flush  of  enthusiasm,  but  with  the  steady  purpose 
of  qualifying  himself  to  take  his  father's  place. 

"  Frank  is  an  uncommon  boy,"  said  Mr.  Frost  to 
6* 


54  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

his  wife,  not  without  feelings  of  pride,  one  night 
when  our  hero  had  retired  to  bed.  "  I  would  trust 
him  with  the  farm  sooner  than  many  who  are  half  a 
dozen  years  older. " 


vn. 

LIKE   FATHER,    LIKE    SON. 

"  WELL,  father,  I  've  got  some  news  for  you," 
said  John  Haynes,  as  he  entered  his  father's  presence, 
two  or  three  days  later. 

"  What  is  it,  John?"  inquired  the  Squire,  laying 
down  a  copy  of  the  New  York  Herald,  which  he  had 
been  reading. 

"  Who  do  you  think  has  enlisted?" 

"  I  do  not  choose  to  guess,"  said  his  father,  coldly. 
*'  If  you  feel  disposed  to  tell  me,  you  may  do  so." 

John  looked  somewhat  offended  at  his  father's  tone, 
but  he  was  anxious  to  tell  the  news.  "  Frost's  going 
to  enlist,"  he  said,  shortly. 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  Squire,  with  interest.  *«  How 
did  you  hear  ?  " 

"  I  heard  him  say  so  himself,  just  now,  in  the 
store." 

"  I  expected  it,"  said  Squire  Haynes  with  a  sneer. 
"  I  understood  his  motives  perfectly  in  urging  the 
town  to  pay  an  enormous  bounty  to  volunteers.  He 
meant  to  line  his  own  pockets  at  the  public  ex 
pense." 

"  He  says  that   he   doesn't  mean  to  accept  the 


56  FKANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OK, 

bounty,"  continued  John,  in  a  tone  which  indicated 
a  doubt  whether  Mr.  Frost  was  in  earnest. 

* « Did  you  hear  him  say  that  ? "  asked  Squire 
Haynes,  abruptly. 

"  Yes.     I  heard  him  »ay  so  to  Mr.  Morse." 

"Perhaps  he  means  it,  and  perhaps  he  doesn't. 
If  he  don't  take  it,  it  is  because  he  is  afraid  of  public 
opinion.  What's  he  going  to  do  about  the  farm, 
while  he  is  gone  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  strangest  part  of  it,"  sail,  John.  "  I 
don't  believe  you  could  guess  who  is  to  be  left  in 
charge  of  it." 

"I  don't  choose  to  guess.  If  you  know,  speak 
out." 

John  bit  his  lip  resentfully. 

"It's  that  conceited  jackanapes  of  his, — Frank 
Frost." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he  is  going  to  leave  that  boy 
to  carry  on  the  farm?"  demanded  Squire  Haynes,  in 
surprise. 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  all  I  can  say  is,  that  he's  more  of  a  fool 
than  I  took  him  to  be." 

"  O,  he  thinks  everything  of  Frank,"  said  John, 
bitterly.  "He'll  be  nominating  him  for  Represen 
tative,  next." 

The  Squire  winced  a  little.  He  had  been  ambi 
tious  to  represent  the  town  in  the  Legislature,  and 
after  considerable  wire-pulling,  had  succeeded  in 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          57 

obtaining  the  nomination  the  year  previous.  But  it 
is  one  thing  to  f  be  nominated  and  another  to  be 
elected.  So  the  Squire  had  found,  to  his  cost.  He 
had  barely  obtained  fifty  votes,  while  his  opponent 
had  been  elected  by  a  vote  of  a  hundred  and  fifty. 
All  allusion*,  therefore,  recalling  his  mortifying  de 
feat,  were  disagreeable  to  him. 

"  On  the  whole,  I  don't  know  but  I  am  satisfied," 
he  said,  recurring  to  the  intelligence  John  had 
brought.  "  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  am  glad  he 
has  made  choice  of  this  boy." 

"  You  don't  think  he  is  competent?  "  asked  John, 
m  surprise. 

"  For  that  very  reason  I  am  glad  he  has  been 
selected,"  said  the  Squire,  emphatically.  *«  I  take  it 
for  granted  that  the  farm  will  be  mismanaged,  and 
become  a  bill  of  expense  instead  of  a  source  of  rev 
enue.  It's  pretty  certain  that  Frost  won't  be  able  to 
pay  the  mortgage  when  it  comes  due.  I  can  bid  off 
the  farm  for  a  small  sum  additional,  and  make  a  cap 
ital  bargain.  It  will  make  a  very  good  place  for 
you  to  settle  down  upon,  John." 

*'  Me  !  "  said  John,  disdainfully.  "  You  don't  ex 
pect  me  to  become  a  plodding  farmer,  I  trust.  I've 
got  talent  for  something  better  than  that,  I  should 
hope." 

"No,"  said  the  Squire,  "I  have  other  views  for 
you.  Still,  you  could  hire  a  farmer  to  carry  it  on  for 
you,  and  live  out  there  in  the  summer." 


58  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OK, 

"  Well,  perhaps  that  would  do,"  said  John,  think 
ing  that  it  would  sound  well  for  him,  even  if  he  lived 
in  the  city,  to  have  a  place  in  the  country.  "  When 
does  the  mortgage  come  due,  father?" 

"  I  don't  remember  the  exact  date.  I  '11  look  and 
see." 

The  Squire  drew  from  a  closet  a  box  hooped  with 
iron,  and  evidently  made  for  security.  This  was  his 
strong  box,  and  in  this  he  kept  his  bonds,  mortgages, 
and  other  securities. 

He  selected  a  document  tied  with  red  ribbon,  and 
examined  it  briefly. 

4 « I  shall  have  the  right  to  foreclose  the  mortgage 
on  the  first  of  next  July,"  he  said. 

"  I  hope  you  will  do  it  then.  I  should  like  to  see 
them  Frosts  humbled." 

"  Them  Frosts  I  Don't  you  know  anything  more 
about  English  grammar,  John?" 

"  Those  Frosts,  then.  Of  course  I  know;  but  a 
feller  can't  always  be  watching  his  words." 

"  I  desire  you  never  again  to  use  the  low  word 
«  feller,' "  said  the  Squire,  who,  as  the  reader  will 
see,  was  more  particular  about  grammatical  accuracy 
than  about  some  other  things  which  might  be  nat 
urally  supposed  to  be  of  higher  importance. 

"  Well,"  said  John,  sulkily,  "  anything  you 
choose." 

"  As  to  the  mortgage,"  proceeded  Squire  Haynes, 
"  I  have  no  idea  they  will  be  able  to  lift  it.  I  feel 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          59 

certain  that  Frost  wont  himself  have  the  money  at 
command  ;  and  I  shan't  give  him  any  grace,  or  con 
sent  to  a  renewal.  He  may  be  pretty  sure  of  that." 

*  *  Perhaps  he  '11  find  somebody  to  lend  him  the 
money." 

"I  think  not.  There  are  those  who  would  be 
willing ;  but  1  question  whether  there  is  any  such 
who  could  raise  the  money  at  a  moment's  warning. 
By  the  way,  you  need  not  mention  my  purpose  in 
this  matter  to  any  one.  If  it  should  leak  out,  Mr. 
Frost  might  hear  of  it,  and  prepare  for  it." 

'*  You  may  trust  me  for  that,  father,"  said  John, 
very  decidedly  ;  *  *  I  want  to  see  Frank  Frost's  proud 
spirit  humbled.  Perhaps  he  '11  feel  like  putting  on 
airs  after  that." 

From  the  conversation  which  has  just  been  chron 
icled,  it  will  be  perceived  that  John  was  a  worthy 
son  of  his  father ;  and,  though  wanting  in  affection 
and  cordial  good  feeling,  that  both  were  prepared  to 
join  hands  in  devising  mischief  to  poor  Frank  and 
his  family.  Let  us  hope  that  the  intentions  of  the 
wicked  may  be  frustrated. 


VHI. 

DISCOURAGED  AND  ENCOURAGED. 

IN  a  small  village  like  Rossville  news  flies  fast. 
Even  the  distinctions  of  social  life  do  not  hinder  an 
interest  being  felt  in  the  affairs  of  each  individual. 
Hence  it  was  that  Mr.  Frost's  determination  to  enlist 
became  speedily  known ;  and  various  were  the  com 
ments  made  upon  his  plan  of  leaving  Frank  in 
charge  of  the  farm.  That  they  were  not  all  favor,- 
able  may  be  readily  believed.  Country  people  are 
apt  to  criticise  the  proceedings  of  their  neighbors 
with  a  greater  degree  of  freedom  than  is  common 
elsewhere. 

As  Frank  was  on  his  way  to  school  on  Saturday 
morning,  his  name  was  called  by  Mrs  Roxana  Ma 
son,  who  stood  in  the  doorway  of  a  small  yellow 
house  fronting  on  the  main  street. 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Mason,"  said  Frank,  po 
litely,  advancing  to  the  gate  in  answer  to  her  call. 

44  Is  it  true  what  I  've  heard  about  your  father's 
going  to  the  war,  Frank  Frost  ?  "  she  commenced. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Mason ;  he  feels  it  his  duty  to  go." 

6  *  And  what 's  to  become  of  the  farm  ?  anybody 
hired  it?" 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          61 

/ 

"  I  am  going  to  take  charge  of  it,"  said  Frank, 
modestly. 

"You!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Roxana,  lifting  both 
hands  in  amazement;  "why,  you're  nothing  but 
a  baby!" 

"I'm  a  baby  of  fifteen,"  said  Frank,  good  hu- 
moredly,  though  his  courage  was  a  little  damped  by 
her  tone. 

*  <  What  do  you  know  about  farming  ? "  inquired 
the  lad#,  in  a  contemptuous  manner.  "  Your  father 
must  be  crazy  !  " 

"  I  shall  do  my  best,  Mrs.  Mason,"  said  Frank, 
quietly,  but  with  heightened  color.  "  My  father  is 
willing  to  trust  me ;  and  as  I  shall  have  Mr.  May- 
nard  to  look  to  for  advice,  I  think  I  can  get  along." 

* '  The  idea  of  putting  a  boy  like  you  over  a 
farm ! "  returned  Mrs.  Roxana,  in  an  uncompro 
mising  tone.  "  I  did  think  your  father  had  more 
sense.  It 's  the  most  shiftless  thing  I  ever  knew 
him  to  do.  How  does  your  poor  mother  feel  about 
it?" 

'  *  She  does  n't  seem  as  much  disturbed  about  it  as 
you  do,  Mrs.  Mason,"  said  Frank,  rather  impatiently ; 
for  he  felt  that  Mrs.  Mason  had  no  right  to  interfere 
in  his  father's  arrangements. 

"Well,  well,  we'll  seel"  said  Mrs.  Roxana, 
shaking  her  head  significantly.  "  If  you  '11  look  in 
your  Bible,  you  '11  read  about  *  the  haughty  spirit 
that  goes  before  a  fall.'  I  'm  sure  I  wish  you  well 


62  FilANK'S    CAMPAIGN  ;    OR, 

enough.  1  hope  that  things '11  turn  out  better  *n 
they 're  like  to.  Tell  your  mother  I'll  come  over 
before  long  and  talk  \vith  her  about  it." 

Frank  inwardly  hoped  that, Mrs.  Roxana  wouldn't 
put  herself  to  any  trouble  to  call ;  but  politeness 
taught  him  to  be  silent. 

Leaving  Mrs.  Mason's  gate  he  kept  on  his  way  to 
school,  but  had  hardly  gone  half  a  dozen  rods  before 
he  met  an  old  lady,  whose  benevolent  face  indicated 
a  very  different  disposition  from  that  of  the  lady  he 
had  just  parted  with. 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Chester,"  said  Frank,  cor 
dially,  recognizing  one  of  his  mother's  oldest  friends. 

"  Good  morning,  my  dear  boy,"  was  the  reply. 
*'  I  hear  your  father  is  going  to  the  war." 

"  Yes,"  said  Frank,  a  little  nervously,  not  know 
ing  but  Mrs.  Chester  would  view  the  matter  in  the 
same  way  with  Mrs.  Mason,  though  he  felt  sure  she 
would  express  herself  less  disagreeably. 

"  And  I  hear  that  you  are  going  to  try  to  make 
his  place  good  at  home." 

"  I  don't  expect  to  make  his  place  good,  Mrs. 
Chester,"  said  Frank,  modestly ;  "  but  I  shall  do  as 
well  as  I  can." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,  my  dear  boy,"  said  the 
old  lady,  kindly.  "You  can  do  a  great  deal,  too* 
You  can  help  your  mother  by  looking  out  for  your 
brothers  and  sisters,  as  well  as  supplying  your 
Bather's  place  on  the  farm." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          63 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  I  can  make  myself  useful," 
§aid  Frank,  feeling  relieved.  "  Mrs.  Mason  has  just 
been  telling  me  that  I  am  not  fit  for  the  charge,  and 
that  discouraged  me  a  little." 

"It's  a  great  responsibility,  no  doubt,  to  come 
on  one  so  young,"  said  the  old  lady;  "  but  it's  of 
God's  appointing.  He  will  strengthen  your  hands, 
if  you  only  ask  Him.  If  you  humbly  seek  his  guid 
ance  and  assistance,  you  need  not  fear  to  fail." 

"Yes,"  said  Frank,  soberly;  "that's  what  I 
mean  to  do." 

"  Then  you  will  feel  that  you  are  in  the  path  of 
duty.  You  '11  be  serving  your  country  just  as  much 
as  if  you  went  yourself." 

"That's  just  the  way  I  feel,  Mrs.  Chester," 
exclaimed  Frank,  eagerly.  "I  want  to  do  some 
thing  for  my  country." 

"  You  remind  me  of  my  oldest  brother,"  said  the 
old  lady,  thoughtfully.  "He  was  left  pretty  much 
as  you  are.  It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  Revolu 
tionary  war,  and  the  army  needed  recruits.  My 
father  hesitated,  for  he  had  a  small  family  depending 
on  him  for  support.  I  was  only  two  years  old  at  the 
time,  and  there  were  three  others  of  us.  Finally  my 
brother  James,  who  was  just  about  your  age,  told 
my  father  that  he  would  do  all  he  could  to  support 
the  family,  and  father  concluded  to  go.  We  did  n't 
have  a  farm,  for  father  was  a  carpenter.  My  brother 
worked  for  neighboring  farmers,  receiving  his  pay  in 


64  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

corn  and  vegetables,  and  picked  up  what  odd  jobs  he 
could.  Then  mother  was  able  to  do  something ;  so 
we  managed  after  a  fashion.  There  were  times  when 
we  were  brought  pretty  close  to  the  wall ;  but  God 
carried  us  through.  And  by-and-by  father  came 
safely  home,  and  I  don't  think  he  ever  regretted  hav 
ing  left  us.  After  a  while  the  good  news  of  peace 
came,  and  he  felt  that  he  had  been  abundantly  repaid 
for  all  the  sacrifices  he  had  made  in  the  good  cause." 

Frank  listened  to  this  narrative  with  great  interest. 
It  yielded  him  no  little  encouragement  to  know  that 
another  boy,  placed  in  similar  circumstances,  had 
succeeded,  and  he  justly  felt  that  he  would  have  very 
much  less  to  contend  against  than  the  brother  of 
whom  Mrs.  Chester  spoke. 

4  *  Thank  you  for  telling  me  about  your  brother, 
Mrs.  Chester,"  he  said.  "  It  makes  me  feel  more  as 
if  things  would  turn  out  well.  Won't  you  come  over 
soon  and  see  us?  Mother  is  always  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Frank;  I  shall  certainly  do  so.  I 
hope  I  shall  not  make  you  late  to  school." 

*  *  O  no ;  I  started  half  an  hour  early  this  morn 
ing." 

Frank  had  hardly  left  Mrs.  Chester  when  he  heard 
a  quick  step  behind  him.  Turning  round  he  per 
ceived  that  it  waa  Mr.  Rathburn,  his  teacher. 

"  I  hurried  to  come  up  with  you,  Frank,"  he  said, 
smiling.  "  I  understand  that  I  am  to  lose  you  from 
BohooL" 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          65 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Frank.  "  I  am  very  sorry 
to  leav«8,  for  I  am  very  much  interested  in  my  studies  ; 
but  I  suppose,  sir,  you  have  heard  what  calls  me 
away." 

"  Your  father  has  made  up  his  mind  to  enlist." 

"Yea,  sir." 

"  And  you  are  to  superintend  the  farm  in  his 
absence  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  hope  you  do  not  think  me  presumpt 
uous  in  undertaking  such  a  responsibility  ?  " 

He  looked  up  eagerly  into  Mr.  Rathburn's  face, 
for  he  had  a  great  respect  for  his  judgment.  But  he 
saw  nothing  to  discourage  him.  On  the  contrary  he 
read  cordial  sympathy  and  approval. 

"  Far  from  it,"  answered  the  teacher,  with  em 
phasis.  "I  think  you  deserving  of  great  commenda 
tion,  especially  if,  as  I  have  heard,  the  plan  originated 
with  you,  and  was  by  you  suggested  to  your  father." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

The  teacher  held  out  his  hand  kindly.  "  It  was 
only  what  I  should  have  expected  of  you,"  he  said. 
« *  I  have  not  forgotten  your  essay.  I  am  glad  to  see 
that  you  not  only  have  right  ideas  of  duty,  but  have, 
what  is  rarer,  the  courage  and  self-denial  to  put  them 
in  practice." 

These  words  gave  Frank  much  pleasure,  and  his 
face  lighted  up. 

"  Shall  you  feel  obliged  to  give  up  your  studies 
entirely  ? "  asked  his  teacher. 
6* 


66  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  study  some  in  the  even 
ing." 

"  If  I  can  be  of  any  assistance  to  you  in  any  way, 
don't  hesitate  to  apply.  If  you  should  find  any 
stumbling-blocks  in  your  lessons,  I  may  be  able  to 
help  you  over  them." 

By  this  time  they  had  come  within  sight  of  the 
echoolhouse. 

"  There  comes  the  young  farmer,"  said  John 
Haynes,  in  a  tone  which  was  only  subdued  lest  the 
teacher  should  hear  him,  for  he  had  no  disposition 
to  incur  another  public  rebuke. 

A  few  minutes  later,  when  Frank  was  quietly 
seated  at  his  desk,  a  paper  was  thrown  from  behind 
lighting  upon  his  Virgil,  which  lay  open  before  him. 
There  appeared  to  be  writing  upon  it,  and  with 
some  curiosity  he  opened  and  read  the  following ! 
*  *  What 's  the  price  of  turnips  ?  " 

It  was  quite  unnecessary  to  inquire  into  the  au 
thorship.  He  felt  confident  that  it  was  written  by 
John  Haynes.  The  latter  of  course  intended  it  as  an 
insult,  but  Frank  did  not  feel  much  disturbed.  As 
long  as  his  conduct  was  approved  by  such  persona 
as  his  teacher  and  Mrs.  Chester,  he  felt  that  he  could 
safely  disregard  the  taunts  and  criticisms  of  others. 
He  therefore  quietly  let  the  paper  drop  to  the  floor, 
and  kept  on  with  his  lesson. 

John  Haynes  perceived  that  he  had  failed  in  his 
benevolent  purpose  of  disturbing  Frank's  tranquillity, 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.  67 

and  this,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  only  increased  tLe  dis 
like  which  he  felt  for  him.  Nothing  is  so  unreason 
able  as  anger,  nothing  so  hard  to  appease.  John 
even  felt  disposed  to  regard  as  an  insult  the  disposi 
tion  which  Frank  had  made  of  his  insulting  query. 

66  The  young  clodhopper's  on  his  dignity,"  he  mut 
tered  to  himself.  "  Well,  wait  a  few  months,  and 
see  if  he  won't  sing  a  different  tune." 

Just  then  John's  class  was  called  up,  and  his  dis 
like  to  Frank  was  not  diminished  by  the  superiority 
of  his  recitation.  The  latter,  undisturbed  by  John's 
feelings,  did  not  give  a  thought  to  him,  but  reflected 
with  a  touch  of  pain  that  this  must  be  his  last  Latin 
recitation  in  school  for  a  long  time  to  come. 


ESL 

tHE  LAST  EVENING  AT  HOME. 

THREE  weeks  passed  quickly.  October  had  al 
ready  reached  its  middle  point.  The  glory  of  the 
Indian  summer  was  close  at  hand.  Too  quickly  the 
days  fled  for  the  little  family  at  the  farm,  for  they 
knew  that  each  brought  nearer  the  parting  of  which 
they  could  not  bear  to  think. 

Jacob  Carter,  who  had  been  sent  for  to  do  the 
heavy  work  on  the  farm,  had  arrived.  He  was  a 
man  of  forty,  stout  and  able  to  work,  but  had 
enjoyed  few  opportunities  of  cultivating  his  mind. 
Though  a  faithful  laborer,  he  was  destitute  of  the 
energy  and  ambition  which  might  ere  this  have  placed 
him  in  charge  of  a  farm  of  his  own.  In  New  Eng 
land  few  arrive  at  his  age  without  achieving  some 
position  more  desirable  and  independent  than  that  of 
farm  laborer.  However,  he  looked  pleasant  and 
good  natured,  and  Mr.  Frost  accounted  himself  for 
tunate  in  securing  his  services. 

The  harvest  had  been  got  in,  and  during  the  win 
ter  months  there  would  not  be  so  much  to  do  as  be- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          69 

fore.  Jacob,  therefore,  "hired  out  "for  a  smaller 
compensation,  to  be  increased  when  the  spring  work 
came  in. 

Frank  had  not  been  idle.  He  had  accompanied 
his  father  about  the  farm,  and  received  as  much  prac 
tical  instruction  in  the  art  of  farming  as  the  time 
would  admit.  He  was  naturally  a  quick  learner, 
and  now  felt  impelled  by  a  double  motive  to  prepare 
himself  as  well  as  possible  to  assume  his  new  re 
sponsibilities.  His  first  motive  was  of  course  to 
make  up  his  father's  loss  to  the  family,  as  far  as 
it  was  possible  for  him  to  do  so,  but  he  was  also 
desirous  of  showing  Mrs.  Koxana  Mason,  and  other 
ill-boding  prophets,  that  they  had  underrated  his 
abilities. 

The  time  came  when  Mr.  Frost  felt  that  he  must 
leave  his  family.  He  had  enlisted  from  preference 
in  an  old  regiment,  already  in  Virginia,  some  mem 
bers  of  which  had  gone  from  Rossville.  A  number 
of  recruits  were  to  be  forwarded  to  the  camp  on  a 
certain  day,  and  that  day  was  now  close  at  hand. 

Let  me  introduce  the  reader  to  the  farmhouse  on 
the  last  evening  for  many  months  when  they  would 
be  able  to  be  together.  They  were  all  assembled 
about  the  fireplace.  Mr.  Frost  sat  in  an  arm-chair, 
holding  Charlie  in  his  lap, — the  privileged  place  of 
the  youngest.  Alice,  with  the  air  of  a  young  wo 
man  sat  demurely  by  her  father's  side  on  a  cricket, 
while  Maggie  stood  beside  him  with  one  hand  resting 


70  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

on  his  knee.  Frank  sat  quietly  beside  his  mother, 
as  if  already  occupying  the  place  which  he  was  in 
future  to  hold  as  her  counsellor  and  protector. 

Frank  and  his  mother  looked  sober.  They  had 
not  realized  fully  until  this  evening  what  it  would  be 
to  part  with  the  husband  and  father,  —  how  con 
stantly  they  would  miss  him  at  the  family  meal  and 
in  the  evening  circle.  Then  there  was  the  dreadful 
uncertainty  of  war.  He  might  never  return,  or,  if 
spared  for  that,  it  might  be  with  a  broken  constitu 
tion  or  the  loss  of  a  limb. 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  me,"  Frank  could  not  help 
thinking,  "  father  would  not  now  be  going  away. 
He  would  have  stayed  at  home,  and  I  could  still  go 
to  school.  It  would  have  made  a  great  difference 
to  us,  and  the  loss  of  one  man  could  not  affect  the 
general  result." 

A  moment  after  his  conscience  rebuked  him  for 
harboring  so  selfish  a  thought. 

"  The  country  needs  him  more  even  than  we  do," 
he  said  to  himself.  "  It  will  be  a  hard  trial  to  have 
him  go,  but  it  is  our  duty." 

"  Will  my  little  Charlie  miss  me  when  I  am 
gone  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Frost  of  the  chubby-faced  boy 
who  sat  with  great  round  eyes  peering  into  the  fire, 
as  if  he  were  deeply  engaged  in  thought. 

*'  Won't  you  take  me  with  you,  papa?"  asked 
Charlie. 

"  What  could  you  do,  if  you  were  out  there,  my 
little  bry?"  asked  the  father,  smiling. 


^ 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         71 

"I'd  shoot  great  big  rebel  with  my  gun,"  said 
Charlie,  waxing  valiant. 

"Your  gun's  only  a  wooden  one,"  said  Maggie, 
with  an  air  of  superior  knowledge.  "  You  could  n't 
kill  a  rebel  with  that." 

"  I  'd  kill  'em  some,"  persisted  Charlie,  earnestly, 
—  evidently  believing  that  a  wooden  gun  differed 
from  others  not  in  kind  but  in  degree. 

"  But  suppose  the  rebels  should  fire  at  you,"  said 
Frank,  amused.  "  What  would  you  do  then, 
Charlie?" 

Charlie  looked  into  the  fire  thoughtfully  for  a  mo 
ment,  as  if  this  contingency  had  not  presented  itself 
to  his  mind  until  now.  Suddenly  his  face  brightened 
up,  and  he  answered,  "I'd  run  away  just  as  fast  as 
I  could." 

All  laughed  at  this,  and  Frank  said,  "but  that 
wouldn't  be  acting  like  a  brave  soldier,  Charlie. 
You  ought  to  stay,  and  make  the  enemy  run." 

'•  I  would  n't  want  to  stay  and  be  shooted,"  said 
Charlie,  ingenuously. 

"  There  ore  many  older  than  Charlie,"  said  Mr. 
Frost,  smiling,  "  who  would  doubtless  sympathize 
entirely  with  him  in  his  objection  to  being  shooted, 
though  they  might  not  be  quite  so  ready  to  make 
confession  as  he  has  jhown  himself.  I  suppose  you 
have  heard  the  couplet,  — 

'  He  who  figiv*  and  runs  away, 
May  live  to  figLt  another  day/ 


72  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"  Pray  don't  speak  about  shooting,"  said  Mrs. 
Frost  with  a  shudder.  "  It  makes  me  feel  nervous." 

"And  to-night  we  should  only  admit  pleasant 
thoughts,"  said  her  husband.  "  Who  is  going  to 
write  me  letters  when  I  am  gone  ?  " 

"I'll  write  to  you  father,"  said  Alice. 

"  And  so  will  I,"  said  Maggie. 

"  I  too,"  chimed  in  Charlie. 

"  Then  if  you  have  so  many  correspondents  al 
ready  engaged,  you  will  hardly  want  to  hear  from 
Frank  and  myself,"  said  his  wife,  smiling. 

"The  more  the  better.  I  suspect  I  shall  find 
letters  more  welcome  than  anything  else.  You  must 
also  send  me  papers  regularly.  I  shall  have  many 
hours  that  will  pass  heavily  unless  I  have  something 
to  read." 

"I'll  mail  you  Harper's  Weekly  regularly,  shall 
I,  father?"  asked  Frank. 

"  Yes,  I  shall  be  glad  enough  to  see  it.  Then, 
there  is  one  good  thing  about  papers,  after  enjoying 
them  myself  I  can  pass  them  round  to  others. 
There  are  many  privations  that  I  must  make  up  my 
mind  to,  but  I  shall  endeavor  to  make  camp-life  as 
pleasant  as  possible  to  myself  and  others." 

"  I  wish  you  were  going  out  as  an  officer,"  said 
Mrs.  Frost.  "  You  would  have  more  indulgences." 

"  Very  probably  I  should.  But  I  don't  feel  in 
clined  to  wish  myself  better  off  than  others.  I  am 
willing  to  serve  my  country  in  any  capacity  in  which 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          73 

I  can  be  of  use.  Thank  Heaven,  I  am  pretty  strong 
and  healthy,  and  better  fitted  than  many  to  encounter 
the  fatigues  and  exposures  which  are  the  lot  of  the 
private." 

"  How  early  must  you  start  to-morrow,  father?  w 
inquired  Frank. 

"  By  daylight.  I  must  be  in  Boston  by  nine 
o'clock,  and  you  know  it  is  a  five-mile  ride  to  the 
depot.  I  shall  want  you  to  carry  me  over." 

"  Will  there  be  room  for  me?"  asked  Mrs.  Frost. 
"  I  want  to  see  the  last  of  you." 

*  *  I  hope  you  won't  do  that  for  a  long  time  to 
come,"  said  Mr.  Frost,  smiling. 

"  You  know  what  I  mean,  Henry." 

"  O  yes,  there  will  be  room.  At  any  rate,  we 
will  make  room  for  you.  And  now  it  seems  to  me 
it  is  time  for  these  little  folks  to  go  to  bed.  Charlie 
finds  it  hard  work  to  keep  his  eyes  open." 

"  O  papa,  papa,  not  yet,  not  yet,"  pleaded  the 
children ;  and  with  the  thought  that  it  might  be 
many  a  long  day  before  he  saw  their  sweet  young 
faces  again,  the  father  suffered  them  to  have  their 
way. 

After  the  children  had  fairly  gone  to  bed  Frank 
and  his  father  and  mother  sat  up  for  a  long  time. 
Each  felt  that  there  was  much  to  be  said ;  but  no  one 
of  them  felt  like  saying  much  then.  Thoughts  of  the 
approaching  separation  swallowed  up  all  others.  The 
thought  kept  recurring  that  to-morrow  would  see 
7 


74  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

them  many  miles  apart,  and  that  many  a  long  to 
morrow  must  pass  before  they  would  again  be 
gathered  around  the  fire. 

"  Frank,"  said  his  father,  at  length,  "  I  have  de 
posited  in  the  Brandon  Bank  four  hundred  dollars, 
about  half  of  which  I  have  realized  from  crops  sold 
this  season.  This  you  will  draw  upon  as  you  have 
need,  for  grocery  bills,  to  pay  Jacob,  &c.  For  pres 
ent  purposes  I  will  hand  you  fifty  dollars,  which  I 
advise  you  to  put  under  your  mother's  care. 

As  he  finished  speaking,  Mr.  Frost,  drew  from 
his  pocket-book  a  roll  of  bills,  and  handed  them  to 
Frank. 

Frank  opened  his  porte-monnaie  and  deposited  the 
money  therein. 

He  had  never  before  so  large  a  sum  in  his  posses 
sion,  and  although  he  knew  it  was  not  to  be  spent 
for  his  own  benefit, — at  least,  no  considerable  part 
of  it, — he  felt  a  sense  of  importance  and  even 
wealth  in  being  the  custodian  of  so  much  money. 
He  felt  that  his  father  had  confidence  in  him,  and 
that  he  was  in  truth  going  to  be  his  representative. 

"A  part  of  the  money  which  I  have  in  the  Bank," 
continued  his  father,  "  has  been  saved  up  towards 
the  payment  of  the  mortgage  on  the  farm." 

"  When  does  it  come  due,  father?" 

"  On  the  first  of  July  of  next  year." 

' '  But  you  won't  be  prepared  to  meet  it  at  that 
time?" 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          75 

"  No,  but  undoubtedly  Squire  Haynes  will  be  will 
ing  to  renew  it.  I  always  pay  the  interest  promptly, 
and  he  knows  it  is  secured  by  the  farm ,  and  therefore 
a  safe  investment.  By  the  way,  I  had  nearly  forgot 
ten  to  say  that  there  will  be  some  interest  due  on  the 
first  of  January.  Of  course,  you  are  authorized  to 
pay  it  just  as  if  you  were  myself." 

"  How  much  will  it  be?  " 

"  Twenty-four  dollars  ;  that  is,  six  months  interest 
at  six  per  cent  on  eight  hundred  dollars." 

"I  wish  the  farm  were  free  from  incumbrance," 
said  Frank. 

*  *  So  do  I ;  and  if  providence  favors  me  it  shall 
be  before  many  years  are  past.  But  in  farming  one 
can't  expect  to  lay  by  money  quite  as  fast  as  in  some 
other  employments." 

The  old  clock  in  the  corner  here  struck  eleven. 

* '  We  must  n't  keep  you  up  too  late  the  last  night, 
Henry,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  "you  will  need  a  good 
night's  sleep  to  carry  you  through  to-morrow." 

Neither  of  the  three  closed  their  eyes  early  that 
night.  Thoughts  of  the  morrow  were  naturally  in 
their  minds.  But  at  last  all  was  still.  Sleep  — 
God's  beneficent  messenger  —  wrapt  their  senses  in 
oblivion,  and  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  the  morrow 
were  for  a  time  forgotten. 


X. 

LITTLE   POMP. 

THERE  was  a  hurried  good  by  at  the  depot. 

"  Kiss  the  children  for  me,  Mary,"  said  her  hus 
band. 

"You  will  write  very  soon,"  pleaded  Mr.  Frost. 

"  By  the  very  first  opportunity." 

* '  All  aboard  !  "  shouted  the  conductor. 

With  a  shrill  scream  the  locomotive  started. 

Frank  and  his  mother  stood  on  the  platform  watch 
ing  the  receding  train  till  it  was  quite  out  of  sight, 
and  then  in  silence  our  young  hero  assisted  his  mother 
into  the  carryall,  and  turned  the  horse's  head  home 
wards. 

It  was  one  of  those  quiet  October  mornings, 
when  the  air  is  soft  and  balmy  as  if  a  June  day 
had  found  its  way  by  mistake  into  the  heart  of 
autumn.  The  road  wound  partly  through  the  woods. 
The  leaves  were  still  green  and  abundant.  Only 
one  or  two  showed  signs  of  the  coming  change, 
which  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  must  leave  them 
bare  and  leafless. 

"What  a  beautiful  day!"  said  Frank,  speaking 
*he  words  almost  unconsciously. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          77 

'  *  Beautiful  indeed  ! "  responded  his  mother.  *  *  On 
such  a  day  as  this  the  world  seems  too  lovely  for  war 
and  warlike  passions  to  be  permitted  to  enter  it. 
When  men  might  be  so  happy,  why  need  they  stain 
their  hands  with  each  others'  blood  ?  " 

Frank  was  unprepared  for  an  answer.  He  knew 
that  it  was  his  father's  departure  which  led  his  mother 
to  speak  thus.  He  wished  to  divert  her  mind  if  pos 
sible. 

Circumstances  favored  his  design. 

They  had  accomplished,  perhaps,  three  quarters  of 
the  distance  home,  when,  as  they  were  passing  a 
small  one  story  building  by  the  roadside,  a  shriek  of 
pain  was  heard,  and  a  little  black  boy  came  running 
out  of  the  house  screaming  in  affright,  —  "  Mammy's 
done  killed  herself.  She 's  mos'  dead  I  " 

He  ran  out  to  the  road,  and  looked  up  at  Mrs. 
Frost,  as  if  to  implore  assistance. 

"  That's  Chloe's  child,"  said  Mrs.  Frost.  «  Stop 
the  horse,  Frank ;  I'll  get  out  and  see  what  has  hap 
pened." 

Chloe,  as  Frank  very  well  knew,  was  a  colored 
woman,  who  until  a  few  months  since  had  been  a 
slave  in  Virginia.  Finally,  she  had  seized  a  favorable 
opportunity,  and  taking  the  only  child  which  the 
cruel  slave  system  had  left  her,  for  the  rest  had  been 
sold  South,  succeeded  in  making  her  way  into  Penn 
sylvania.  Chance  had  directed  her  to  Kossville,  where 
fihe  had  been  permitted  to  occupy  rent-free  an  old 
7* 


78  FRANK'S    CAMPAIGN  ;    OK, 

shanty  which  for  some  years  previous  had  been  un 
inhabited.  Here  she  had  supported  herself  by  tak 
ing  in  washin^  and  ironing.  This  had  been  her 

C?  O  O 

special  work  on  the  plantation  where  she  had  been 
born  and  brought  up,  and"  she  was  therefore  quite 
proficient  in  it.  She  found  no  difficulty  in  obtaining 
work  enough  to  satisfy  the  moderate  wants  of  herself 
and  little  Pomp. 

The  latter  was  a  bright  little  fellow,  as  black  as 
the  ace  of  spades,  and  possessing  to  the  full  the  mer 
curial  temperament  of  the  Southern  negro.  Full  of 
fun  and  drollery,  he  attracted  plenty  of  attention 
when  he  came  into  the  village,  and  earned  many  a 
penny  from  the  boys  by  his  plantation  songs  and 
dances. 

Now,  however,  he  appeared  in  a  mood  entirely 
different,  and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he  was  much 
frightened. 

4 '  What's  the  matter,  Pomp?"  asked  Frank,  as 
he  brought  his  horse  to  a  stand-still. 

"  Mammy  done  killed  herself,  "he  repeated,  wring 
ing  his  hands  in  terror. 

A  moan  from  the  interior  of  the  house  seemed  to 
make  it  clear  that  something  had  happened. 

Mrs.  Frost  pushed  the  door  open  and  entered. 

Chloe  had  sunk  down  on  the  floor,  and  was  rock 
ing  back  and  forth,  holding  her  right  foot  in  both 
hands,  wTith  an  expression  of  acute  pain  on  her  sable 
face.  Beside  her  was  a  small  pail  bottom  upwards. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          79 

Mrs  Frost  was  at  no  loss  to  conjecture  the  nature 
of  the  accident  which  had  befallen  her.  The  pail 
had  contained  hot  water,  and  its  accidental  overturn 
had  scalded  poor  Chloe.  , 

"  Are  you  much  hurt,  Chloe?"  asked  Mrs.  Frost, 
sympathizingly. 

"  O  missus,  I  'se  most  dead,"  was  the  reply,  accom 
panied  by  a  groan.  "  Spect  I  shan't  live  till  mornin'. 
Dunno  what  '11  become  of  poor  Pomp  when  I  'se 
gone." 

Little  Pomp  squeezed  his  knuckles  into  his  eyes, 
and  responded  with  an  unearthly  howl. 

"  Don't  be  too  much  frightened,  Chloe,"  said  Mrs. 
Frost,  soothingly,  "  You'll  get  over  it  sooner  than 
you  think.  How  did  the  pail  happen  to  turn  over?" 

"Must  have  been  de  debble,  missus.  I  was  ker- 
ryin  it  just  as  keerful  when  all  at  once  it  upsot." 

This  explanation,  though  not  very  luminous  to  her 
visitor,  appeared  to  excite  a  fierce  spirit  of  resentment 
against  the  pail  in  the  mind  of  little  Pomp. 

He  suddenly  rushed  forward  impetuously  and 
kicked  the  pail  with  all  the  force  he  could  muster. 

But  alas  for  poor  Pomp  !  His  feet  were  unpro 
tected  by  shoes,  and  the  sudden  blow  hurt  him  much 
more  than  the  pail.  The  consequence  was  a  howl  of 
the  most  distressing  nature. 

Frank  had  started  forward  to  rescue  Pomp  from 
the  consequences  of  his  precipitancy,  but  too  late. 
He  picked  up  the  little  fellow,  and  carrying  him  out 
strove  to  soothe  him. 


80  FKANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Frost  examined  Chloe's  injuries. 
They  were  not  so  great  as  she  had  anticipated.  She 
learned  on  inquiry  that  the  water  had  not  been  scald 
ing  hot.  There  was  little  doubt  that  with  proper 
care  she  would  recover  from  her  injuries  in  a  wreek  01 
ten  days.  But  in  the  mean  time  it  would  not  do  to 
use  the  foot. 

"  What  shall  I  do,  missus?"  groaned  Chloe.  "  I 
ain't  got  nothin'  baked  up.  'Pears  like  me  and  Pomp 
must  starve." 

"  Not  so  bad  as  that,  Chloe,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  with 
a  reassuring  smile.  "  After  we  have  you  on  the  bed 
we  will  take  Pomp  home  with  us,  and  give  him 
enough  food  to  last  you  both  a  couple  of  days.  A$ 
the  end  of  that  time,  or  sooner  if  you  get  out,  yov 
can  send  him  up  again." 

Chloe  expressed  her  gratitude  warmly,  and  Mrs, 
Frost,  calling  in  Frank's  assistance,  helped  the  pool 
woman  to  a  comfortable  position  on  the  bed,  which 
fortunately  was  in  the  corner  of  the  same  room. 
Had  it  been  up  stairs  the  removal  would  have  been 
attended  with  considerable  difficulty  as  well  as  pain 
to  Chloe. 

Pomp,  the  acuteness  of  whose  pain  had  subsided, 
looked  on  with  wondering  eyes,  while  Frank  and 
Mrs.  Frost  ««  toted  "  his  mother  on  to  the  bed,  as  he 
expressed  it. 

Chloe  accepted,  with  wondering  gratitude,  the  per 
sonal  attentions  of  Mrs.  Frost,  who  bound  up  the  in 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          81 

jured  foot  with  a  softness  of  touch  which  brought  no 
pain  to  the  sufferer. 

"  You  ain't  too  proud,  missus,  to  tend  a  poor  black 
woman,"  she  said.  "  Down  Souf  dey  used  to  tell  us 
dat  everybody  looked  down  on  de  poor  nigger  and 
lef '  'em  to  starve  an'  die  if  dey  grow  sick." 

"  They  told  you  a  great  many  things  that  were 
not  true,  Chloe,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  quietly.  "The 
color  of  the  skin  ought  to  make  no  difference  where 
we  have  it  in  our  power  to  render  kind  offices." 

"  Do  you  believe  niggers  go  to  de  same  heaven 
wid  wite  folks,  missus?"  asked  Chloe,  after  a  pause. 

*  <  Why  should  they  not  ?  They  were  made  by 
the  same  God." 

"I  dunno,  missus,"  said  Chloe.  "  I  hopes  you 
is  right." 

* '  Do  you  think  you  can  spare  Pomp  a  little  while 
to  go  home  with  us  ?  " 

"Yes,  missus.  Here  you  Pomp,"  she  called, 
"  you  go  home  wid  dis  good  lady,  and  she  '11  gib  you 
something  for  your  poor  sick  mudder.  Do  you 
hear?" 

"  I'se  goin'  to  ride?  "  said  Pomp,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Frank,  good-naturedly. 

"  Hi,  hi,  dat 's  prime  1 "  ejaculated  Pomp,  turning 
a  somerset,  in  his  joy. 

"  Scramble  in,  then,  and  we'll  start." 

Pomp  needed  no  second  invitation.  He  jumped 
into  the  carriage,  and  was  more  leisurely  followed 
by  Frank  and  his  mother. 


82  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

It  was  probably  the  first  time  that  Pomp  had  evei 
been  in  a  covered  carriage,  and  consequently  the 
novelty  of  his  situation  put  him  in  high  spirits. 

He  was  anxious  to  drive,  and  Frank,  to  gratify 
him,  placed  the  reins  in  his  hands.  His  eyes  spark 
ling  with  delight,  and  his  expanded  mouth  showing 
a  full  set  of  ivories,  Pomp  shook  the  reins  in  glee, 
shouting  out,  "  Hi,  go  long  there,  you  oP  debble  ! ' 

"  Pomp,  you  mustn't  use  that  word,"  said  Mrs 
Frost,  reprovingly. 

"What  word,  missus?"  demanded  Pomp,  inno 
cently. 

"  The  last  word  you  used,"  she  answered. 

"  Don't  'member  what  word  you  mean,  missus," 
said  Pomp.  "Hi,  you  debble  !  " 

"That's  the  word?" 

"Not  say  debble?"  said  Pomp,  wonderingly. 
"Why  not,  missus?" 

"It  isn't  a  good  word." 

"Mammy  says  debble.  She  calls  me  little  deb 
ble  when  I  run  away,  and  don't  tote  in  de  wood." 

"  I  shall  tell  her  not  to  use  it.  It  isn't  a  good 
word  for  anybody  to  use." 

"  Hope  you  '11  tell  her  so,  missus,"  said  Pomp, 
grinning  and  showing  his  teeth.  "  Wheneber  she 
calls  me  little  debble,  she  pulls  off  her  shoe  and  hits 
me.  Hurts  like  de  debble.  Mebbe  she  won't  hit 
me  if  you  tell  her  not  to  say  debble." 

Mrs.  Frost  could  hardly  forbear  laughing.      She 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          83 

managed,  however,  to  preserve  a  serious  counte 
nance  while  she  said,  "  You  must  take  care  to  be 
have  well,  and  then  she  won't  have  to  punish  you." 

It  is  somewhat  doubtful  whether  Pomp  heard  this 
last  remark.  He  espied  a  pig  walking  by  the  side 
of  the  road,  and  was  seized  with  the  desire  to  run 
over  it.  Giving  the  reins  a  sudden  twitch,  he 
brought  the  carriage  round  so  that  it  was  very  near 
upsetting  in  a  gully. 

Frank  snatched  the  reins  in  time  to  prevent  this 
catastrophe. 

"What  did  you  do  that  for,  Pomp?"  he  said, 
quickly. 

"  Wanted  to  scare  de  pig,"  exclaimed  Pomp, 
laughing.  4<  Wanted  to  hear  him  squeal." 

"  And  so  you  nearly  tipped  us  over." 

"  Didn't  mean  to  do  dat,  Mass  Frank.  Tears 
like  I  did  n't  think." 

Mrs.  Frost  was  too  much  alarmed  by  this  narrow 
escape  to  consent  to  Pomp's  driving  again,  and  for 
the  moment  felt  as  if  she  should  like  to  usurp  his 
mother's  privilege  of  spanking  him.  But  the  little 
imp  looked  so  unconscious  of  having  done  anything 
wrong,  that  her  vexation  soon  passed  away. 

In  half  an  hour  Pomp  was  on  his  way  back,  laden 
with  a  basket  full  of  provisions  for  his  sick  mother 
and  himself. 


XI. 

PUNISHING   A   BULLY. 

IT  was  fortunate  for  Mrs.  Frost  that  she  wae  so 
eoon  called  upon  to  think  for  others.  It  gave  her 
less  time  to  grieve  over  her  husband's  absence,  which 
was  naturally  a  severe  trial  to  her.  As  for  Frank, 
though  the  harvest  was  gathered  in,  there  were 
nlenty  of  small  jobs  to  occupy  his  attention.  He 
divided  with  Jacob  the  care  of  the  cows,  and  was  up 
betimes  in  the  morning  to  do  his  share  of  the  milk 
ing.  Then  the  pigs  and  chickens  must  be  fed  every 
day,  and  this  Frank  took  entirely  into  his  own 
charge.  Wood,  also,  must  be  prepared  for  the 
daily  wants  of  the  house,  and  this  labor  he  shared 
with  Jacob. 

In  the  afternoon,  however,  Frank  usually  had  two 
or  three  hours  at  his  own  disposal,  and  this,  in  ac 
cordance  with  a  previous  determination,  he  resolved 
to  devote  to  keeping  up  his  studies.  He  did  not  ex 
pect  to  make  the  same  progress  that  he  would  have 
done  if  he  had  been  able  to  continue  at  school,  but 
it  was  something  to  feel  that  he  was  not  remaining 
stationary . 

Frank  resolved  to  say  nothing  to  his  classmates 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          85 

about  his  private  studies.  They  would  think  he  was 
falling  far  behind,  and  at  some  future  time  he  would 
surprise  them. 

Still,  there  were  times  when  he  felt  the  need  of  a 
teacher.  He  would  occasionally  encounter  difficul 
ties  which  he  found  himself  unable  to  surmount 
without  assistance.  At  such  times  he  thought  of 
Mr.  Rathburn's  kind  offer.  But  his  old  teacher 
lived  nearly  a  mile  distant,  and  he  felt  averse  to 
troubling  him,  knowing  that  his  duties  in  school 
were  arduous. 

Occasionally  he  met  some  of  his  schoolmates. 
As  nearly  all  of  them  were  friendly  and  well  dis 
posed  to  him,  this  gave  him  pleasure,  and  brought 
back  sometimes  the  wish  that  he  was  as  free  as 
they.  But  this  wish  was  almost  instantly  checked 
by  the  thought  that  he  had  made  a  sacrifice  for  his 
country's  sake. 

A  few  days  after  the  incident  narrated  in  the  last 
chapter,  Frank  was  out  in  the  woods  not  far  from 
Chloe's  cottage,  collecting  brushwood,  to  be  after 
wards  carried  home,  when  his  attention  was  called 
to  an  altercation,  one  of  the  parties  in  which  he 
readily  recognized  as  little  Pomp.  To  explain  how 
it  came  about,  we  shall  have  to  go  back  a  little. 

Pomp  was  returning  from  Mrs.  Frost's,  swinging 
a  tin-kettle  containing  provisions  for  his  mother  and 
himself,  when  all  at  once  he  met  John  Haynes,  who 
was  coming  from  the  opposite  direction. 


86  THANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

Now,  John  was  something  of  a  bully,  and  liked 
to  exercise  authority  over  boys  who  were  small 
enough  to  render  the  attempt  a  safe  one.  On  the 
present  occasion  he  felt  in  a  hectoring  mood. 

"  I'll  have  some  fun  out  of  the  little  nigger,"  he 
said  to  himself,  as  he  espied  Pomp. 

Pomp  approached,  swinging  his  pail  as  before,  and 
whistling  a  plantation  melody. 

"  What  have  you  got  there,  Pomp?"  asked  John. 

"I'se  got  a  pail,"  said  Pomp,  independently. 
* '  Don't  yer  know  a  pail  when  you  see  him  ?  " 

* '  I  know  an  impudent  little  nigger  when  I  see 
him,"  retorted  John,  not  over  pleased  with  the  an 
swer.  "  Come  here  directly,  and  let  me  see  what 
you  ?ve  got  in  your  pail." 

"  I  ain't  got  noffin  for  you,"  said  Pomp,  defiantly. 

"We'll  see  about  that,"  said  John.  "Now  do 
you  mean  to  come  here  or  not  ?  I  'm  going  to  count 
three,  and  I  '11  give  you  till  that  time  to  decide.  One 
—  two  —  three  !  " 

Pomp  apparently  had  no  intention  of  complying 
with  John's  request.  He  had  halted  about  three 
rods  from  him,  and  stood  swinging  his  pail,  mean 
while  watching  John  warily. 

"I  see  you  want  me  to  come  after  you,"  said 
John,  angrily. 

He  ran  towards  Pomp,  but  the  little  contraband 
dodged  him  adroitly,  and  got  on  the  other  side  of  a 
tree. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          87 

Opposition  only  stimulated  John  to  new  efforts. 
He  had  become  excited  in  the  pursuit,  and  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  capture  Pomp.  He  dodged  in  and 
out  among  the  trees  with  such  quickness  and  dexter 
ity  that  John  was  foiled  for  a  considerable  time. 
The  ardor  of  his  pursuit  and  its  unexpected  difficulty 
excited  his  anger.  He  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that 
Pomp  was  under  no  obligation  to  comply  with  his 
demand.  But  this  is  generally  the  way  with  tyrants, 
who  are  seldom  careful  to  keep  within  the  bounds  of 
justice  and  reason. 

"  Just  let  me  catch  you,  you  little  rascal,  and  I 
will  give  you  the  worst  licking  you  ever  had,"  John 
exclaimed,  with  passion. 

"Wait  till  you  catch  me,"  returned  Pomp,  slip 
ping  eel-like  from  his  grasp. 

But  Pomp,  in  dodging,  had  now  come  to  an  open 
space,  where  he  was  at  disadvantage.  John  was 
close  upon  him,  when  suddenly  he  stood  stock  still, 
bending  his  back  so  as  to  obtain  a  firm  footing.  The 
consequence  was,  that  his  too  ardent  pursuer  tumbled 
over  him,  and  stretched  his  length  upon  the  ground. 

Unfortunately  for  Pomp,  John  grasped  his  leg  in 
falling,  and  held  it  by  so  firm  a  grip  that  he  was 
unable,  to  get  free.  In  the  moment  of  his  downfall 
John  attained  his  object. 

"  Now  I've  got  you,"  he  said,  white  with  passion, 
"  and  I'm  going  to  teach  you  a  lesson." 

Clinging  to  Pomp  with  one  hand,  he  drew  a  stout 


88  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

string  from  his  pocket  with  the  other,  and  secured 
the  hands  of  the  little  contraband,  notwithstanding 
his  efforts  to  escape. 

"  Le*  me  go,  you  debble,"  he  said,  using  a  word 
which  had  grown  familiar  to  him  on  the  plantation. 

There  was  a  cruel  light  in  John's  eves  which  au 
gured  little  good  to  poor  Pomp.  Suddenly,  as  if  a 
new  idea  had  struck  him,  he  loosened  the  cord,  and 
taking  the  boy  carried  him  in  spite  of  his  kicking  and 
screaming  to  a  small  tree,  around  which  he  clasped 
his  hands  which  he  again  confined  with  cords. 

He  then  sought  out  a  stout  stick,  and  divested  it 
of  twigs. 

Pomp  watched  his  preparations  with  terror.  Too 
well  he  knew  what  they  meant.  More  than  once  he 
had  seen  those  of  his  own  color  whipped  on  the  plan 
tation.  Unconsciously  he  glided  into  the  language 
which  he  would  have  used  there. 

"  Don't  whip  me,  massa  John,"  he  whimpered  in 
terror.  "  For  the  lub  of  heaven  lef  me  be.  I  ain't 
done  noffin  to  you." 

"  You'd  better  have  thought  of  that  before,"  said 
John,  his  eyes  blazing  anew  with  vengeful  light. 
"  If  I  whip  you,  you  little  black  rascal,  it's  only 
because  you  richly  deserve  it." 

"I'll nebber  do  so  again,"  pleaded  Pomp,  rolling 
his  eyes  in  terror.  Though  what  it  was  he  promised 
not  to  do  the  poor  little  fellow  would  have  found  it 
hard  to  tell. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          89 

It  would  have  been  as  easy  to  soften  the  heart  of 
a  nether  millstone  as  that  of  John  Haynes. 

By  the  time  he  had  completed  his  preparations, 
and  whirled  his  stick  in  the  air  preparatory  to  bring 
ing  it  down  with  full  force  on  Pomp's  back,  rapid 
steps  were  heard,  and  a  quick  voice  asked,  "  what 
are  you  doing  there,  John  Haynes?" 

John  looked  round,  and  saw  standing  near  him 
Frank  Frost,  whose  attention  had  been  excited  by 
what  he  had  heard  of  Pomp's  cries. 

"  Save  me,  save  me,  Mass  Frank,"  pleaded  poor 
little  Pomp. 

"What  has  he  tied   you  up  there  for,  Pomp?" 

"It's  none  of  your  business,  Frank  Frost,"  said 
John,  passionately. 

"  I  think  it's  some  of  my  business,"  said  Frank, 
coolly,  "when  I  find  you  playing  the  part  of  a 
Southern  overseer.  You  are  not  in  Richmond,  John 
Haynes,  and  you'll  get  into  trouble  if  you  undertake 
to  act  as  if  you  were." 

"If  you  say  much  more,  I'll  flog  you  too!" 
screamed  John,  beside  himself  with  excitement  and 
rage. 

Frank  had  not  a  particle  of  cowardice  in  his  com 
position.  He  was  not  fond  of  fighting,  but  he  felt 
that  circumstances  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  do  so 
now.  He  did  not  easily  lose  his  temper,  and  this  at 
present  gave  him  the  advantage  over  John. 

"  You  are  too  excited  to  know  what  you  are  talk- 
8* 


90  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;   OR, 

ing  about,"  he  said,  coolly.  "Pomp,  why  has  he 
tied  you  up  ?  " 

Pomp  explained  that  John  had  tried  to  get  his  pail 
from  him.  He  closed  by  imploring  "  Mass  Frank" 
to  prevent  John  from  whipping  him. 

"He  shall  not  whip  you,  Pomp,"  said  Frank, 
quietly.  As  he  spoke  he  stepped  to  the  tree,  and 
faced  J<s>hn  intrepidly. 

John,  in  a  moment  of  less  passion,  would  not  have 
ventured  to  attack  a  boy  so  near  his  own  size.  Like 
all  bullies  he  was  essentially  a  coward ;  but  now  his 
rage  got  the  better  of  his  prudence. 

"  I  '11  flog  you  both  !"  he  exclaimed,  hoarsely,  and 
sprang  forward  with  upraised  stick. 

Frank  was  about  half  a  head  shorter  than  John, 
and  was  more  than  a  year  younger,  but  he  was  stout 
and  compactly  built ;  besides,  he  was  cool  and  col 
lected,  and  this  is  always  an  advantage. 

Before  John  realized  what  had  happened,  his  stick 
had  flown  from  his  hand,  and  he  was  forcibly  pushed 
back  so  that  he  narrowly  escaped  falling  to  the 
ground. 

"Gib  it  to  him,  Mass  Frank  1  "  shouted  little 
Pomp  ;  "gib  it  to  him  1 " 

This  increased  John's  exasperation.  By  this  time 
he  was  almost  foaming  at  the  mouth. 

"I'll  kill  you,  Frank  Frost,"  he  exclaimed,  this 
time  rushing  at  him  without  a  stick. 

Frank  had  been  in  the  habit  of  wrestling  for  sport 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          91 

with  boys  of  his  own  size.  In  this  way  he  had  ac 
quired  a  certain  amount  of  dexterity  in  4 '  tripping 
up."  John,  on  the  contrary,  was  unpractised.  His 
^uick  temper  was  so  easily  roused  that  other  boys 
had  declined  engaging  in  friendly  contests  with  him, 
knowing  that  in  most  cases  they  would  degenerate 
into  a  fight. 

John  rushed  forward,  and  attempted  to  throw 
Frank  by  the  strength  of  his  arms  alone.  Frank 
eluded  his  grasp,  and  getting  one  of  his  legs  around 
John's,  with  a  quick  movement  tripped  him  up.  He 
fell  heavily  upon  his  back. 

44  This  is  all  foolish,  John,"  said  Frank,  bending 
over  his  fallen  foe.  "  What  are  you  fighting  for? 
The  privilege  of  savagely  whipping  a  poor  little  fel 
low  less  than  half  your  age." 

"  I  care  more  about  whipping  you,  a  cursed 
*ight ! "  said  John,  taking  advantage  of  Frank's 
withdrawing  his  pressure  to  spring  to  his  feet. 
14  You  first,  and  him  afterwards  !  " 

Again  he  threw  himself  upon  Frank ;  but  again 
coolness  and  practice  prevailed  against  blind  fury 
and  untaught  strength,  and  again  he  lay  prostrate. 

By  this  time  Pomp  had  freed  himself  from  the 
string  that  fettered  his  wrists,  and  danced  in  glee 
round  John  Haynes,  in  whose  discomfiture  he  felt 
great  delight. 

4'  You  'd  better  pick  up  your  pail  and  run  home," 
aid  Frank.  He  was  generously  desirous  of  saving 


92  THANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

John  from  further  humiliation.  "  Will  you  go  away 
quietly  if  I  will  let  you  up,  John?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  d you  !  "  returned  John,  writhing,  his 

face  almost  livid  with  passion. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Frank,  "  for  in  that  case  ) 
must  continue  to  hold  you  down." 

"  What  is  the  trouble,  boys?"  came  from  an  un 
expected  quarter. 

It  was  Mr.  Maynard,  who,  chancing  to  pass  along 
the  road,  had  been  attracted  by  the  noise  of  the 
struggle. 

Frank  explained  in  a  few  words. 

"  Let  him  up,  Frank,"  said  the  old  man.  "  I'll 
see  that  he  does  no  further  harm." 

John  rose  to  his  feet,  and  looked  scowlingly  from 
one  to  the  other,  as  if  undecided  whether  he  had  not 
better  attack  both. 

"  You've  disgraced  yourself,  John  Haynes,"  said 
the  old  farmer,  scornfully.  "  So  you  would  turn 
negro- whipper,  would  you  ?  Your  talents  are  misap 
plied  here  at  the  North.  Brutality  isn't  respectable 
here,  my  lad.  You'  d  better  find  your  way  within 
the  Eebel  lines,  and  then  perhaps  you  can  gratify 
your  propensity  for  whipping  the  helpless." 

"  Some  day  I'll  be  revenged  on  you  for  this,"  said 
John,  turning  wrathfully  upon  Frank.  "  Perhaps 
you  think  I  don't  mean  it,  but  the  day  will  come 
when  you  '11  remember  what  I  say." 

"  I  wish  you  no  harm,  John,"  said  Frank,  com- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          93 

posedly,  "  but  I  shan't  stand  by  and  see  you  beat  a 
boy  like  Pomp." 

"  No,"  said  the  farmer,  sternly;  "  and  if  ever  I 
hear  of  your  doing  it,  I  '11  horsewhip  you  till  you  beg 
for  mercy.  Now  go  home,  and  carry  your  disgrace 
with  you." 

Mr.  Maynard  spoke  contemptuously,  but  with  de 
cision,  and  pointed  up  the  road. 

With  smothered  wrath  John  obeyed  his  order,  be 
cause  he  saw  that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  refuse. 

"I'll  come  up  with  him  yet,"  he  muttered  to  him 
self,  as  he  walked  quietly  towards  home.  "If  he 
does  n't  rue  this  day,  my  name  is  n't  John  Haynes." 

John  did  not  see  fit  to  make  known  the  circum 
stances  of  his  quarrel  with  Frank,  feeling  justly,  that 
neither  his  design  nor  the  result  would  reflect  any 
credit  upon  himself.  But  his  wrath  was  none  the 
less  deep  because  he  brooded  over  it  in  secret.  He 
would  have  renewed  his  attempt  upon  Pomp,  but 
there  was  something  in  Mr.  Maynard's  eye  which 
assured  him  that  his  threat  would  be  carried  out. 
Frank,  solicitous  for  the  little  fellow's  safety,  kept 
vigilant  watch  over  him  for  some  days,  but  no  vio 
lence  was  attempted.  He  hoped  John  had  forgotten 
his  threats. 


XII. 

A  LETTER  FROM   THE   CAMP. 

THE  little  family  at  the  Frost  Farm  looked  forward 
with  anxious  eagerness  to  the  first  letter  from  the 
absent  father. 

Ten  days  had  elapsed  when  Frank  was  seen  hur 
rying  up  the  road  with  something  in  his  hand. 

Alice  saw  him  first,  and  ran  in,  exclaiming, 
"  Mother,  I  do  believe  Frank  has  got  a  letter  from 
father.  He  is  running  up  the  road." 

Mrs.  Frost  at  once  dropped  her  work,  no  less  in 
terested  than  her  daughter,  and  was  at  the  door 
just  as  Frank,  flushed  with  running,  reached  the 
gate. 

"  What  '11  you  give  for  a  letter?  "  he  asked,  trium 
phantly. 

"  Give  it  to  me  quick,"  said  Mrs.  Frost.  "  I  am 
anxious  to  learn  whether  your  father  is  well." 

"  I  guess  he  is,  or  he  wouldn't  have  written  such 
a  long  letter." 

"How  do  you  know  it's  long?"  asked  Alice. 
"  You  haven't  read  it." 

"  I  judge  from  the  weight.     There  are  two  stamps 


THE   FARM   AISTD   THE   CAMP.  95 

on  the  envelope.    I  was  tempted  to  open  it,  but  being 
directed  to  mother,  I  did  n't  venture." 

Mrs.  Frost  sat  down,  and  the  children  gathered 
round  her,  while  she  read  the  following  letter :  — 

CAMP ,  Virginia. 

DEAR  MARY  :  — 

When  I  look  about  me,  and  consider  the  novelty 
and  strangeness  of  my  surroundings,  I  can  hardly 
realize  that  it  is  only  a  week  since  I  sat  in  our  quiet 
sitting-room  at  the  Farm,  with  you  and  our  own  dear 
ones  around  me.  I  will  try  to  help  your  imagina 
tion  to  a  picture  of  my  present  home. 

But  first  let  me  speak  of  my  journey  hither. 

It  was  tedious  enough,  travelling  all  day  by  rail. 
Of  course,  little  liberty  was  allowed  us.  Military 
discipline  is  rigid,  and  must  be  maintained.  Of  its 
necessity  we  had  a  convincing  proof  at  a  small  sta 
tion  between  Hartford  and  New  Haven.  One  of  our 
number,  who,  I  accidentally  learned,  is  a  Canadian, 
and  had  only  been  tempted  to  enlist  by  the  bounty, 
selected  a  seat  by  the  door  of  the  car.  I  had  noticed 
for  some  time  that  he  looked  nervous  and  restless,  as 
if  he  had  something  on  his  mind. 

At  one  of  our  stopping-places,  —  a  small,  obscure 
station, — he  crept  out  of  the  door,  and,  as  he 
thought  unobserved,  dodged  behind  a  shed,  thinking, 
no  doubt,  that  the  train  would  go  off  without  him. 
But  an  officer  had  his  eye  upon  him,  and  a  minute 


96  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

afterwards  he  was  ignominiously  brought  back  and 
put  under  guard.  I  am  glad  to  say  that  his  case 
inspired  no  sympathy.  To  enlist,  obtain  a  bounty, 
and  then  attempt  to  evade  the  service  for  which  the 
bounty  is  given,  is  despicable  in  the  extreme.  I  am 
glad  to  know  that  no  others  of  our  company  had  the 
least  desire  to  follow  this  man's  example. 

We  passed  through  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and 
Washington,  but  I  can  give  you  little  idea  of  either 
of  these  cities.  The  time  we  passed  in  each  was 
mostly  during  the  hours  of  darkness,  when  there  was 
little  opportunity  of  seeing  anything. 

In  Washington,  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  see  our 
worthy  President.  We  were  marching  down  Penn 
sylvania  Avenue  at  the  time.  On  the  opposite  side 
of  the  street  we  descried  a  very  tall  man,  of  slender 
figure,  walking  thoughtfully  along,  not  appearing  to 
notice  what  was  passing  around  him. 

The  officer  in  command  turned  and  said  :  "  Boys, 
look  sharp.  That  is  Abraham  Lincoln,  across  the 
way." 

Of  course  we  all  looked  eagerly  towards  the  man 
of  whom  we  had  heard  so  much. 

I  could  not  help  thinking  how  great  a  responsi 
bility  rests  upon  this  man,  — to  how  great  an  extent 
the  welfare  and  destinies  of  our  beloved  country  de 
pend  upon  his  patriotic  course. 

As  I  noticed  his  features,  which,  plain  as  they  are, 
bear  the  unmistakable  marks  of  a  shrewd  benevo- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          97 

lence,  and  evince  also  as  I  think  acute  and  original 
powers  of  mind,  I  felt  reassured.  I  could  not  help 
saying  to  myself:  "  This  man  is  at  least  honest,  and 
if  he  does  not  carry  us  in  safety  through  this  tremen 
dous  crisis  it  will  not  be  for  the  lack  of  an  honest 
determination  to  do  his  duty." 

And  now  let  me  attempt  to  give  you  a  picture  of 
our  present  situation,  with  some  account  of  the  way 
we  live. 

Our  camp  may  appropriately  be  called  "  Hut 
Village."  Imagine  several  avenues  lined  with  square 
log-huts  surmounted  by  tent-coverings.  The  logs 
are  placed  transversely,  and  are  clipped  at  the  ends 
so  as  to  fit  each  other  more  compactly.  In  this  way 
the  interstices  are  made  much  narrower  than  they 
would  otherwise  be.  These,  moreover,  are  filled  in 
with  mud,  which,  as  you  have  probably  heard,  is  a 
staple  production  of  Virginia.  This  is  a  good  pro 
tection  against  the  cold,  though  it  does  not  give  our 
dwellings  a  very  elegant  appearance. 

Around  most  of  our  huts  shallow  trenches  are  dug 
to  carry  off  the  water,  thus  diminishing  the  dampness. 
Most  of  the  huts  are  not  floored,  but  mine  fortu 
nately  is  an  exception  to  the  general  rule.  My  com 
rades  succeeded  in  obtaining  some  boards  somewhere, 
and  we  are  a  little  in  advance  of  our  neighbors  in 
this  respect. 

Six  of  us  are  lodged  in  a  tent.  It  is  pretty  close 
packing,  but  we  don't  stand  upon  ceremony  here. 
9 


98  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

My  messmates  seem  to  be  pleasant  fellows.  I  have 
been  most  attracted  to  Frank  Glover,  a  bright  young 
fellow  of  eighteen.  He  tells  me  that  he  is  an  only 
son,  and  his  mother  is  a  widow. 

"  Was  n't  your  mother  unwilling  to  have  you  come 
out  here?"  I  asked  him  one  day. 

"No,"  he  answered,  "not  unwilling.  She  was 
only  sorry  for  the  necessity.  When  I  told  her  that 
I  felt  it  to  be  my  duty,  she  told  me  at  once  to  go. 
She  said  she  would  never  stand  between  me  and 
my  country." 

"  You  must  think  of  her  often,"  I  said. 

"  All  the  time,"  he  answered  seriously,  a  thought 
ful  expression  stealing  over  his  young  face.  "  I 
write  to  her  twice  a  week  regular,  and  sometimes 
oftener.  For  her  sake  I  hope  my  life  may  be  spared 
to  return." 

"  I  hope  so  too,"  I  answered,  warmly.  Then  after 
a  minute's  pause,  I  added  from  some  impulse,  "  Will 
you  let  me  call  you  Frank?  I  have  a  boy  at  home, 
not  many  years  younger  than  you.  His  name  is 
Frank  also,  —  it  will  seem  to  remind  me  of  him." 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  he  answered,  his  face  light 
ing  up  with  evident  pleasure.  "  Everybody  calls  me 
Frank  at  home,  and  I  am  tired  of  being  called 
Graver.* 

So  our  compact  was  made.  I  shall  feel  a  warm 
interest  in  this  brave  boy  and  I  fervently  hope  that 
the  chances  of  war  will  leave  him  unscathed. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          99 

I  must  give  you  a  description  of  Hiram  Marden, 
another  of  our  small  company,  a  very  different  kind 
of  person  from  Frank  Grover.  But  it  takes  all  sorts 
of  characters  to  make  an  army,  as  well  as  a  world, 
and  Marden  is  one  of  the  oddities.  Imagine  a  tall 
young  fellow  with  a  thin  face,  lantern  jaws,  and  long 
hair  "slicked"  down  on  either  side.  Though  he 
may  be  patriotic,  he  was  led  into  the  army  from  a 
different  cause.  He  cherished  an  attachment  for  a 
village  beauty,  who  did  not  return  his  love.  He 
makes  no  concealment  of  his  rebuff,  but  appears  to 
enjoy  discoursing  in  a  sentimental  way  upon  his  dis 
appointment.  He  wears  such  an  air  of  meek  resig 
nation  when  he  speaks  of  his  cruel  fair  one  that  the 
effect  is  quite  irresistible,  and  I  find  it  difficult  to 
accord  him  that  sympathy  which  his  unhappy  fate 
demands.  Fortunately  for  him  his  troubles,  deep- 
seated  as  they  are,  appear  to  have  very  little  effect 
upon  his  appetite.  He  sits  down  to  his  rations  with 
a  look  of  subdued  sorrow  upon  his  face,  and  sighs 
frequently  between  the  mouthfuls.  In  spite  of  this, 
however,  he  seldom  leaves  anything  upon  his  tin 
plate,  which  speaks  well  for  his  appetite,  since 
Uncle  Sam  is  a  generous  provider,  and  few  of  us 
do  full  justice  to  our  allowance. 

You  may  wonder  how  I  enjoy  soldier's  fare.  I 
certainly  do  long  sometimes  for  the  good  pumpkin 
and  apple  pies  which  I  used  to  have  at  home,  and 
confess  that  a  little  apple-sauce  would  make  my 


100  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

hard-tack  a  little  more  savory.  I  begin  to  appre 
ciate  your  good  qualities  as  a  housekeeper,  Mary, 
more  than  ever.  Pies  can  be  got  of  the  sutler, 
but  they  are  such  poor  things  that  I  would  rather 
do  without  than  eat  them,  and  I  am  quite  sure  they 
would  try  my  digestion  sorely. 

There  is  one  very  homely  esculent  which  we  crave 
in  the  camp  —  I  mean  the  onion.  It  is  an  excellent 
preventive  of  scurvy,  a  disease  to  which  our  mode 
of  living  particularly  exposes  us.  We  eat  as  many 
as  we  can  get,  and  should  be  glad  of  more.  Tell 
Frank  he  may  plant  a  whole  acre  of  them.  They 
will  require  considerable  care,  but  even  in  a  pecu 
niary  way  they  will  pay.  The  price  has  considerably 
advanced  since  the  war  began,  on  account  of  the 
large  army  demand,  and  will  doubtless  increase  more. 

As  to  our  military  exercises,  drill,  etc.,  we  have 
enough  to  occupy  our  time  well.  I  see  the  advan 
tage  of  enlisting  in  a  veteran  regiment.  I  find  my 
self  improving  very  rapidly.  Besides  my  public 
company  drill,  I  am  getting  my  young  comrade, 
Frank  Grover,  who  has  been  in  the  service  six 
months,  to  give  me  some  private  lessons.  With 
the  help  of  these  I  hope  to  pass  muster  creditably 
before  my  first  month  is  out. 

And  now,  my  dear  Mary,  I  must  draw  my  letter 
to  a  close.  In  the  army  we  are  obliged  to  write 
under  difficulties.  I  am  writing  this  on  my  knap 
sack  for  a  desk,  and  that  is  not  quite  so  easy  as  a 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        101 

table.  The  constrained  position  in  which  I  am 
forced  to  sit  has  tired  me,  and  I  think  I  will  go  out 
and  "  limber  "  myself  a  little.  Frank,  who  has  just 
finished  a  letter  to  his  mother,  will  no  doubt  join  me. 
Two  of  my  comrades  are  sitting  close  by  playing 
euchre.  When  I  joined  them  I  found  they  were  in 
the  habit  of  playing  for  small  stakes ;  but  I  have 
succeeded  in  inducing  them  to  give  up  a  practice 
which  might  not  unlikely  lead  to  bad  results. 

In  closing,  I  need  not  tell  you  how  much  and  how 
often  I  think  of  you  all.  I  have  never  before  been 
separated  from  you,  and  there  are  times  when  my 
longing  to  be  with  you  again  is  very  strong.  You 
must  make  up  for  your  absence  by  frequent  and  long 
letters.  Tell  me  all  that  is  going  on.  Even  trifles 
will  serve  to  amuse  us  here. 

Tell  Frank  to  send  me  Harper's  Weekly  regularly 
Two  or  three  times  a  week  I  should  like  to  have  a 
daily  paper  forwarded.  Every  newspaper  that  finds 
its  way  into  camp  goes  the  rounds,  and  its  contents 
are  eagerly  devoured. 

I  will  write  you  again  very  soon.  The  letters  I 
write  and  receive  from  home  will  be  one  of  my  prin 
cipal  sources  of  pleasure.  God  bless  you  all,  is  the 
prayer  of  your  affectionate  husband  and  father, 

HENRY  FROST. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  this  letter  was 
read  with  eager  interest.  That  evening  all  the  chil- 


102  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

dren,  including  little  Charlie,  were  busy  writing  let 
ters  to  the  absent  father.  I  have  not  room  to  print 
them  all ;  but  as  this  was  Charlie's  first  epistolary 
effort,  it  may  interest  some  of  my  youthful  readers 
to  see  it.  The  mistakes  in  spelling  will  be  excused 
on  the  score  of  Charlie's  literary  inexperience.  This 
is  the  way  it  commenced  :  — 

DEER   FARTHER, 

I  am  sorry  you  hav  to  live  in  a  log  hous  stuck  up 
with  mud.  I  shud  think  the  mud  wood  cum  off  on 
your  close.  I  am  wel  and  so  is  Maggie.  Frank  is 
agoin  to  make  me  a  sled  —  a  real  good  one.  I 
shal  cal  it  the  egle.  I  hope  we  shal  soon  hav  sum 
sno.  It  will  be  my  berth  day  next  week.  I  shal 
be  seven  years  old.  I  hope  you  will  cum  back  soon. 
Good  nite. 

from  CHARLIE. 

Charlie  was  so  proud  of  his  letter  that  he  insisted 
on  having  it  enclosed  in  a  separate  envelope  and 
mailed  by  itself,  —  a  request  which  was  complied 
with  by  his  mother. 


xm. 

MISCHIEF    ON   FOOT. 

As  may  be  supposed,  John  Haynes  was  deeply 
incensed  with  Frank  Frost  for  the  mani  er  in  which 
he  had  foiled  him  in  his  attack  upon  Pomp.  He  felt 
that  in  this  whole  matter  he  had  appeared  by  no  means 
to  advantage.  After  all  his  boasting,  he  had  been 
defeated  by  a  boy  younger  and  smaller  than  himself. 
The  old  grudge  which  he  had  against  Frank  for  the 
success  gained  over  him  at  school,  increased  and 
added  poignancy  to  his  mortification.  He  felt  that 
he  should  never  be  satisfied  until  he  had  "  come  up" 
with  Frank  in  some  way.  The  prospect  of  seeing 
him  ejected  from  the  farm  was  pleasant,  but  it  was 
too  far  off.  John  did  not  feel  like  waiting  so  long 
for  the  gratification  of  his  revengeful  feelings.  He 
resolved  in  the  mean  time  to  devise  some  method  of 
injuring  or  annoying  Frank. 

He  could  not  at  once  think  of  anything  feasible. 
Several  schemes  flitted  across  his  mind,  but  all  were 
open  to  some  objection.  John  did  not  care  to  at 
tempt  anything  which  would  expose  him,  if  discov 
ered,  to  a  legal  punishment.  I  am  afraid  this 
weighed  more  with  him  than  the  wrong  or  injus 
tice  of  his  schemes. 


104  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

At  last  it  occurred  to  him  that  Mr.  Frost  kept  a 
couple  of  pigs.  To  let  them  out  secretly  at  night 
would  be  annoying  to  Frank,  as  they  would  prob 
ably  stray  quite  a  distance,  and  thus  a  tedious  pur 
suit  would  be  made  necessary.  Perhaps  they  might 
never  be  found,  in  which  case  John  felt  that  he 
should  not  grieve  much. 

Upon  this  scheme  John  finally  settled  as  the  one 
promising  the  most  amusement  to  himself  and  an 
noyance  to  his  enemy,  as  he  chose  to  regard  Frank. 
He  felt  quite  averse,  however,  to  doing  the  work 
himself.  In  the  first  place,  it  must  be  done  by 
night,  and  he  could  not  absent  himself  from  the 
house  at  a  late  hour  without  his  father's  knowledge. 
Again,  he  knew  there  was  a  risk  of  being  caught ; 
and  it  would  not  sound  very  well  if  noised  abroad 
that  the  son  of  Squire  Haynes  had  gone  out  by 
night  and  let  loose  a  neighbor's  pigs. 

He  cast  about  in  his  mind  for  a  confederate,  and 
after  a  while  settled  upon  a  boy  named  Dick  Bum- 
stsad. 

This  Dick  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  scape 
grace  and  a  ne'er-do-well.  He  was  about  the  age  of 
John  Haynes,  but  had  not  attended  school  for  a 
couple  of  years,  and,  less  from  want  of  natural  ca 
pacity  than  from  indolence,  knew  scarcely  more  than 
a  boy  of  ten.  His  father  was  a  shoemaker,  and  had 
felt  obliged  to  keep  his  son  at  home  to  assist  him  in 
the  shop.  He  did  not  prove  a  very  efficient  assist- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.          105 

ant,  however,  being  inclined  to  shirk  duty  whenever 
he  could. 

It  was  upon  this  boy  that  John  Haynes  fixed  as 
most  likely  to  help  him  in  his  plot.  On  his  way 
home  from  school  the  next  afternoon,  he  noticed 
Dick  loitering  along  a  little  in  advance. 

"  Hold  on,  Dick,"  he  called  out,  in  a  friendly 
voice,  at  the  same  time  quickening  his  pace. 

Dick  turned  in  some  surprise  ;  for  John  Haynes 
had  a  foolish  pride,  which  had  hitherto  kept  him 
very  distant  towards  those  whom  he  regarded  as 
standing  lower  than  himself  in  the  social  scale. 

"  How  are  you,  John?"  he  responded,  putting 
up  the  knife  with  which  he  had  been  whittling. 

"  All  right.     What  are  you  up  to  nowadays?" 

"  Working  in  the  shop,"  said  Dick,  shrugging 
his  shoulders.  "  I  wish  people  didn't  wear  shoes, 
for  my  part.  I  've  helped  make  my  share.  Peg 
ging  is  n't  a  very  interesting  operation." 

"  No,"  said  John,  with  remarkable  affability.  "  I 
shouldn't  think  there 'd  be  much  fun  in  it." 

"Fun  !  I  guess  not.  For  my  part  I  'd  be  willing 
to  go  barefoot,  if  other  people  would,  for  the  sake  of 
getting  rid  of  pegging." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  some  time  to  yourself, 
though,  don't  you  ! " 

"  Precious  little.  I  ought  to  be  in  the  shop  now. 
Father  sent  me  down  to  the  store  for  some  awls,  and 
he  '11  be  fretting  because  I  don't  get  back.  I  broke 


106  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

my  awl  on  purpose,"  said  Dick,  laughing,  "  so  as  to 
get  a  chance  to  run  out  a  little  while." 

"I  suppose  your  father  gives  you  some  of  the 
money  that  you  earn,  does  n't  he?  "  inquired  John. 

"  A  few  cents  now  and  then  ;  that's  all.  He  says 
everything  is  so  high  nowadays,  that  it  takes  all  we 
can  both  of  us  earn  to  buy  food  and  clothes.  So  if 
a  fellow  wants  a  few  cents  now  and  then  to  buy  a 
cigar,  he  can't  have  'em." 

John  was  glad  to  hear  this.  He  felt  that  he  could 
the  more  readily  induce  Dick  to  assist  him  in  his 
plans. 

"  Dick  !  "  he  said,  abruptly,  looking  round  to  see 
that  no  one  was  within  hearing  distance,  "  Wouldn't 
you  like  to  earn  a  two-dollar  bill  ?  " 

"  For  myself?"  inquired  Dick. 

"  Certainly." 

"  Is  there  much  work  in  it?  "  asked  indolent  Dick, 
cautiously. 

"  No,  and  what  little  there  is  will  be  fun." 

"  Then  I'm  in  for  it.  That  is,  I  think  I  am. 
What  is  it?" 

"  You'll  promise  not  to  tell?"  said  John. 

"  Honor  bright." 

"It's  only  a  little  practical  joke  that  I  want  (o 
play  upon  one  of  the  boys." 

"  On  who?"  asked  Dick,  unmindful  of  his  gram 
mar. 

"  On  Frank  Frost." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         107 

"  Frank's  a  pretty  good  fellow.  It  isn't  going  to 
hurt  him  any,  is  it?" 

"  O  no,  of  course  not." 

"Because  I  wouldn't  want  to  do  that.  He's 
always  treated  me  well." 

"  Of  course  he  has.  It's  only  a  little  joke,  you 
know." 

"  O  well,  if  it's  a  joke  just  count  me  in.  Fire 
away,  and  let  me  know  what  you  want  done." 

"You  know  that  Frank,  or  his  father,  keeps 
pigs?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  want  you  to  go  some  night  —  the  sooner  the 
better  —  and  let  them  out,  so  that  when  morning 
comes  the  pigs  will  be  minus,  and  Master  Frank 
will  have  a  fine  chase  after  them." 

"  Seems  to  me,"  said  Dick,  "  that  won't  be  much 
of  a  joke." 

"Then  I  guess  you  never  saw  a  pig  chase.  Pigs 
are  so  contrary,  that  if  you  want  them  to  go  in  one 
direction,  they  are  sure  to  go  in  another.  The  way 
they  gallop  over  the  ground,  with  their  little  tails 
wriggling  behind  them,  is  a  caution." 

"  But  it  would  be  a  great  trouble  to  Frank  to  get 
*hem  back." 

"  O  well,  you  could  help  him,  and  so  get  still 
more  fun  out  of  it,  he  not  knowing  of  course  that  you 
had  anything  to  do  with  letting  them  out." 

*  *  And  that  would  take  me  out  of  the  shop  for  a 


108 


couple  of  hours,"  said  Dick,  brightening  at  the 
thought. 

"Of  course,"  said  John;  "so  you  would  get  a 
double  advantage.  Come,  what  do  you  say." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Dick,  wavering. 
"You'd  pay  me  the  money  down  on  the  nail, 
would  n't  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  John.    "  I  '11  show  you  the  bill  now." 

He  took  from  his  pocket-book  a  two-dollar  green 
back,  and  displayed  it  to  Dick. 

"  You  could  buy  cigars  enough  with  this  to  last 
you  some  time,"  he  said,  insinuatingly. 

"  So  I  could.  I  declare,  I  've  a  good  mind  to  take 
up  with  your  offer." 

"  You  'd  better.     It 's  a  good  one." 

"  But  why  don't  you  do  it  yourself?"  asked  Dick, 
with  sudden  wonder. 

"Because  father's  very  strict,"  said  John,  glibly, 
"  and  if  I  should  leave  the  house  at  night,  he'd  be 
sure  to  find  it  out." 

"That's  where  I  have  the  advantage.  I  sleep 
down  stairs,  and  can  easily  slip  out  of  the  window, 
without  anybody's  being  the  wiser." 

« '  Just  the  thing.     Then  you  agree  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  might  as  well.  Are  you  particular  about 
the  night?" 

"No,  take  your  choice  about  that.  Only  the 
sooner  the  better." 

The  two  boys  separated,  John  feeling  quite  elated 
with  his  success. 


XIV. 

A  RAID   UPON  THE   PIG-PEN. 

THE  more  Dick  thought  of  the  enterprise  which 
he  had  undertaken,  the  more  he  disliked  it.  He 
relished  fun  as  much  as  any  one,  but  he  could  not 
conceal  from  himself  that  he  would  be  subjecting 
Frank  to  a  great  deal  of  trouble  and  annoyance. 
As  he  had  told  John,  Frank  had  always  treated  him 
well,  and  this  thought  made  the  scheme  disagreeable 
to  him. 

Still,  John  had  promised  him  two  dollars  for  his 
cooperation,  and  this  in  his  circumstances  was  an 
important  consideration.  Unfortunately,  Dick  had 
contracted  a  fondness  for  smoking,  —  a  habit  which 
his  scanty  supply  of  pocket-money  rarely  enabled 
him  to  indulge.  This  windfall  would  keep  him  in 
cigars  for  some  time.  It  was  this  reflection  which 
finally  turned  the  wavering  scale  of  Dick's  irresolu 
tion,  and  determined  him  to  embrace  John's  offer. 

The  moon  was  now  at  the  full,  and  the  nights  were 
bright  and  beautiful.  Dick  decided  that  it  would  be 
best  to  defer  the  accomplishment  of  his  purpose  till 
later  in  the  month,  when  darker  nights  would  serve 
aa  a  screen,  and  render  detection  more  difficult. 
10 


110  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

By-and-by  a  night  came  which  he  thought  suitable. 
A  few  stars  were  out,  but  they  gave  only  a  faint 
glimmer  of  light,  not  more  than  was  necessary. 

Dick  went  to-bed  at  nine  o'clock,  as  usual.  By 
an  effort  he  succeeded  in  keeping  awake,  feeling  that 
if  he  once  yielded  to  drowsiness,  he  should  probably 
sleep  on  till  morning.  At  half  past  nine  all  in  the 
house  were  abed.  It  was  not  till  eleven,  however, 
that  Dick  felt  it  safe  to  leave  the  house.  He  dressed 
himself  expeditiously  and  in  silence,  occasionally 
listening  to  see  if  he  could  detect  any  sound  in  the 
room  above,  where  his  parents  slept.  Finally  he 
raised  the  window  softly,  and  jumped  out.  He  crept 
out  to  the  road,  and  swiftly  bent  his  steps  towards 
Mr.  Frost's  house. 

As  this  was  not  more  than  a  third  of  a  mile  dis 
tant,  a  very  few  minutes  sufficed  to  bring  him  to  his 
destination.  Dick's  feelings  were  not  the  most  com 
fortable.  Though  he  repeatedly  assured  himself  that 
it  was  only  fun  he  was  engaged  in,  he  felt  very  much 
like  a  burglar  about  to  enter  a  house. 

Arrived  before  the  farm-house,  he  looked  cautious 
ly  up  to  the  windows,  but  could  see  no  light  burning. 

"The  coast  is  clear,"  he  thought.  "I  wish  it 
were  all  over,  and  I  were  on  my  way  home." 

Dick  had  not  reconnoitered  thoroughly.  There 
was  a  light  burning  in  a  window  at  the  other  end  of 
the  house. 

The  pigpen  was  a  small,  rough,  unpainted  build- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        Ill 

ing,  with  a  yard  opening  from  it.  Around  the  yard 
was  a  stone  wall,  which  prevented  the  pigs  from 
making  their  escape.  They  were  now,  as  Dick 
could  with  difficulty  see,  stretched  out  upon  the  floor 
of  the  pen  asleep. 

Dick  proceeded  to  remove  a  portion  of  the  stones 
forming  the  wall.  It  was  not  very  easy  or  agreeable 
work,  the  stones  being  large  and  heavy.  At  length 
he  effected  a  gap  which  he  thought  would  be  large 
enough  for  the  pigs  to  pass  through.  He  next  con 
sidered  whether  it  would  be  better  to  disturb  the 
slumbers  of  the  pigs  by  poking  them  with  a  hoe,  or 
wait  and  let  them  find  out  the  avenue  of  escape  in 
the  morning.  He  finally  decided  to  stir  them  up. 
He  accordingly  went  round  to  the  door,  and  seizing 
a  hoe  commenced  punching  one  of  the  pigs  vigo 
rously. 

The  pig  whose  slumbers  were  thus  rudely  dis 
turbed  awoke  with  a  loud  grunt,  and  probably 
would  have  looked  astonished  and  indignant  if  na 
ture  had  given  him  the  power  of  expressing  such 
emotions. 

"  Get  out,  there,  you  lazy  beast,"  exclaimed  Dick. 

The  pig,  as  was  perhaps  only  natural  under  the 
circumstances,  seemed  reluctant  to  get  up,  and  was 
by  no  means  backward  in  grunting  his  discontent. 
Dick  was  earnestly  engaged  in  overcoming  his  re 
pugnance  to  locomotion,  when  he  was  startled  by 
hearing  the  door  of  the  building,  which  he  had  care- 


112  FEANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OK, 

fully  closed,  open  slowly.  Looking  up  hastily,  the 
hoe  still  in  his  hand,  his  dismayed  glance  fell  upon 
Frank  Frost,  entering  with  a  lantern. 

A  half  exclamation  of  surprise  and  dismay  escaped 
him.  This  called  the  attention  of  Frank,  who  till 
that  moment  was  unsuspicious  of  Dick's  presence. 

"  Dick  Bumstead  ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  he 
recognized  the  intruder.  "What  brings  you  here 
at  this  time  of  night  ?  " 

"  A  mean  errand,  Frank,"  returned  Dick,  with  a 
wholesome  feeling  of  shame.  He  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  a  confession. 

*  *  You  did  n't  come  here  to  —  to  —  "  Here  Frank 
stopped  short. 

"  No,  not  to  steal.  I  ain't  quite  so  mean  as  that 
comes  to.  I  came  to  let  out  your  pigs,  so  that  in 
the  morning  you  would  have  a  long  chase  after  them." 

"  But  what  could  put  such  a  thing  into  your  head, 
Dick?"  asked  Frank,  in  great  surprise. 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  a  good  joke." 

"  It  wouldn't  have  been  much  of  a  joke  to  me," 
said  Frank. 

'  *  No ;  and  to  tell  the  truth  it  would  n't  have  been 
to  me.  The  fact  is,  and  I  don't  mind  telling  it,  that 
I  should  never  have  thought  of  such  a  thing,  if  some 
body  else  had  n't  put  it  into  my  head." 

"  Somebody  else?" 

4 « Yes  ;  I  'd  a  little  rather  not  tell  who  that  some 
body  is,  for  I  don't  believe  he  would  like  to  have  you 
know." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         113 

"  Why  did  n't  he  come  himself? "  asked  Frank. 
"  It  seems  to  me  he 's  been  making  a  cat's  paw  of 
you." 

"  A  cat's  paw?" 

"Yes,  haven't  you  read  the  story?  A  monkey 
wanted  to  draw  some  chestnuts  out  of  the  hot  ashes, 
but  feeling  a  decided  objection  to  burning  his  own 
paws  in  the  operation  drew  a  cat  to  the  fire  and 
thrust  her  paw  in." 

"  I  don't  know  but  it 's  been  so  in  my  case,"  said 
Dick.  "  I  didn't  want  to  do  it,  and  that's  a  fact. 
I  felt  as  mean  as  could  be  when  I  first  came  into 
your  yard  to-night.  But  he  offered  me  two  dollars 
to  do  it,  and  it's  so  seldom  I  see  money  that  it 
tempted  me." 

Frank  looked  puzzled.  "I  don't  see,"  he  said 
thoughtfully,  "how  anybody  should  think  it  worth 
while  to  pay  two  dollars  for  such  a  piece  of  mis 
chief." 

"  Perhaps  he  don't  like  you,  and  wanted  to  plague 
you,"  suggested  Dick. 

The  thought  at  once  flashed  upon  Frank  that  John 
Haynes  must  be  implicated.  He  was  the  only  boy 
who  was  likely  to  have  two  dollars  to  invest  in  this 
way,  and  the  suggestion  offered  by  Dick  of  personal 
enmity  was  sufficient  to  supply  a  motive  for  his 
action. 

"  I  believe  I  know  who  it  is  now,  Dick,"  he  said, 
quietly.     "However,  I   won't   ask  you  to  tell  me. 
10* 


114  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

There  is  one  boy  in  the  village  who  thinks  he  has 
cause  of  complaint  against  me,  though  I  have  never 
intentionally  injured  him." 

44  What  shall  you  do  about  it,  Frank?"  asked 
Dick,  a  little  awkwardly,  for  he  did  not  want  his  own 
agency  made  public. 

44  Nothing,"  answered  Frank.  "  I  would  rather 
take  no  notice  of  it." 

44  At  any  rate  I  hope  you  won't  think  hard  of  me," 
said  Dick.  "  You  have  always  treated  me  well,  and 
I  did  n't  want  to  trouble  you.  But  the  money 
tempted  me.  I  meant  to  buy  cigars  with  it." 

44  You  don't  smoke,  Dick?" 

44  Yes,  when  I  get  a  chance." 

44 1  wouldn't  if  I  were  you.  It  isn't  good  for 
boys  like  you  and  me.  It  is  an  expensive  habit,  and 
injurious  too." 

44  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right,  Frank,"  said 
Dick,  candidly. 

44 1  know  I  am.  You  can  leave  off  now,  Dick, 
better  than  when  you  are  older." 

At  this  moment  a  voice  was  heard  from  the  house, 
calling  "  Frank!" 

44 1  came  out  for  some  herbs,"  said  Frank,  hur 
riedly.  44  Jacob  isn't  very  well,  and  mother  is 
going  to  make  him  some  herb  tea.  I  won't  mention 
that  I  have  seen  you." 

44  All  right.     Thank  you,  Frank." 

"  A  minute  later  Frank  went  into  the  house, 
leaving  Dick  by  himself. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         115 

"  Now,"  thought  Dick,  "  I  must  try  to  remedy 
the  mischief  I  have  done.  I'm  afraid  I've  got  a 
job  before  me." 

He  went  round  to  the  gap  in  the  wall,  and  began 
to  lay  it  again  as  well  as  he  could.  In  lifting  the 
heavy  stones  he  began  to  realize  how  much  easier  it 
is  to  make  mischief  than  to  repair  damages  after 
wards.  He  pulled  and  tugged,  but  it  took  him  a 
good  half  hour,  and  by  that  time  he  felt  very  tired. 

"  My  clothes  must  be  precious  dirty,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "At  any  rate  my  hands  are.  I  wonder 
where  the  pump  is.  But  then  it  won't  do  to  pump  ; 
it'll  make  too  much  noise.  O,  here's  some  water  in 
the  trough." 

Dick  succeeded  in  getting  some  of  the  dirt  off  his 
hands,  which  he  dried  on  his  handkerchief.  Then 
with  a  feeling  of  relief  he  took  the  road  towards 
home. 

Although  he  may  be  said  to  have  failed  most  sig 
nally  in  his  design,  he  felt  considerably  better  than 
if  he  had  succeeded. 

"Frank's  a  good  fellow,"  he,  said  to  himself. 
"  Some  boys  would  have  been  mad,  and  made  a 
great  fuss.  But  he  did  n't  seem  angry  at  all,  not 
even  with  John  Haynes,  and  did  all  he  could  to 
screen  me.  Well,  I'm  glad  I  didn't  succeed." 

Dick  reached  home  without  any  further  mischance, 
and  succeeded  in  crawling  in  at  the  window  without 
making  any  sound  loud  enough  to  wake  up  his 
Daren  ts. 


116  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

The  next  day  John,  who  had  been  informed  of  his 
intention  to  make  the  attempt  the  evening  previous, 
contrived  to  meet  him. 

"Well,  Dick,"  he  said,  eagerly,  "what  success 
last  night?" 

"  None  at  all,"  answered  Dick. 

"Did n't  you  try?" 

"Yes." 

"  What  prevented  your  succeeding,  then?" 

"  Frank  came  out  to  get  some  herbs  to  make  tea 
for  the  hired  man,  and  so  caught  me." 

"  You  did  n't  tell  him  who  put  you  up  to  it?"  said 
John,  apprehensively. 

"  No,"  said  Dick,  coolly ;  "  I  don't  do  such  things." 

"  That's  good,"  said  John,  relieved.  "  Was  he 
mad?" 

"No,  he  didn't  make  any  fuss.  He  asked  what 
made  me  do  it,  and  I  told  him  somebody  else  put  it 
into  my  head." 

' '  You  did  !     I  thought  you  said  you  did  n't." 

"  I  didn't  tell  who  that  somebody  was,  but  Frank 
said  he  could  guess."x 

"  He  can't  prove  it,"  said  John,  hastily. 

"  I  don't  think  he  '11  try,"  said  Dick.  "  The  fact 
is,  John,  Frank's  a  good  fellow,  and  if  you  want  to 
get  anybody  to  do  him  any  mischief  hereafter  you  'd 
better  not  apply  to  me." 

"I  don't  know  as  he's  any  better  than  other 
boys,"  said  John,  sneering.  He  did  not  enjoy  hear 
ing  Frank's  praises. 


THE  FAKM  AND  THE  CAMP.         117 

"  He 's  better  than  either  of  us,  I  'm  sure  of  that," 
said  Dick,  decidedly. 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  Dick  Bumstead,"  said  John, 
haughtily.  "  I  wouldn't  lower  myself  by  a  com 
parison  with  him.  He's  only  a  laborer,  and  will 
grow  up  a  clodhopper." 

"He's  my  friend,  John  Haynes,"  said  -Dick, 
stoutly,  "and  if  you've  got  anything  else  to  say 
against  him  you  11  oblige  me  by  going  farther  off." 

John  left  in  high  dudgeon. 

That  day  to  his  father's  surprise  Dick  worked  with 
steady  industry,  and  did  not  make  a  single  attempt 
to  shirk. 


POMP   BEHAVES   BADLY. 

THE  village  of  Rossville  was  distant  about  five  miles 
from  the  long  line  of  railway  which  binds  together 
with  iron  bands  the  cities  of  New  York  and  Boston. 
Only  when  the  wind  was  strongly  that  way,  could 
the  monotonous  noise  of  the  railway  train  be  heard, 
as  the  iron  monster,  with  its  heavy  burden,  sped 
swiftly  on  its  way. 

Lately  a  covered  wagon  had  commenced  running 
twice  a  day,  between  Rossville  and  the  railway  sta 
tion  at  Wellington.  It  started  at  seven  in  the  morn 
ing,  in  time  to  meet  the  early  trains,  and  again  at 
four,  in  order  to  receive  any  passengers  who  might 
have  left  the  city  in  the  afternoon. 

Occupying  a  central  position  in  the  village  stood 
the  tavern, — a  two-story  building,  with  a  long 
piazza  running  along  the  front.  Here  an  extended 
seat  was  provided,  on  which,  when  the  weather  was 
not  too  inclement,  the  floating  population  of  the  vil 
lage  who  had  plenty  of  leisure,  and  others  when 
their  worfc  was  over  for  the  day,  liked  to  congregate, 


THE    FAPwM    AND    THE    CAMP.  119 

and  in  neighborly  chat  discuss  the  affairs  t>f  the  vil 
lage,  or  the  nation,  speculating  perchance  upon  the 
varying  phases  of  the  great  civil  contest,  which, 
though  raging  hundreds  of  miles  away,  came  home 
to  the  hearts  and  hearths  of  quiet  Rossville  and  every 
other  village  and  hamlet  in  the  land. 

The  driver  of  the  carriage  which  made  its  daily 
journeys  to  and  from  the  station  had  received  from 
his  parents  the  rather  uncommon  name  of  Ajax,  not 
probably  from  any  supposed  resemblance  to  the 
ancient  Grecian  hero,  of  whom  it  is  doubtful  whether 
his  worthy  progenitor  had  ever  heard  He  had  been 
at  one  time  a  driver  on  a  horse-car  in  New  York,  but 
had  managed  to  find  his  way  from  the  busy  hum  of 
the  city  to  quiet  Rossville,  where  he  was  just  in  time 
for  an  employment  similar  to  the  one  he  had  given 
up. 

One  day,  early  in  November,  a  young  man  of 
slight  figure,  apparently  not  far  from  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  descended  from  the  cars  at  the  Welling 
ton  station,  and  crossing  the  track  passed  through  the 
email  station-house  to  the  rear  platform. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,"  he  inquired  of  a  bystander, 
"  whether  there  is  any  conveyance  between  this  place 
and  Rossville?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "  That's  the  regular 
carriage,  and  here  'a  the  driver.  Ajax,  here 's  a  pas 
senger  for  you." 

"  I  have  a  trunk  on  the  other  side,"  said  the  young 


120  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

man,  addressing  the  driver.  "  If  you  will  go  round 
with  me,  we  will  bring  it  here." 

"All  right,  sir,"  said  Ajax,  in  a  business  like 
way. 

The  trunk  was  brought  round,  and  placed  on  the 
rack  behind  the  wagon.  It  was  a  large  black  trunk, 
securely  bound  with  brass  bands,  and  showed  marks 
of  service  as  if  it  had  been  considerably  used.  Two 
small  strips  of  paper  pasted  on  the  side,  bore  the 
custom-house  marks  of  Havre  and  Liverpool.  On 
one  end  was  a  large  card,  on  which,  written  in  large 
bold  letters,  was  the  name  of  the  proprietor,  Henry 
Morton. 

In  five  minutes  the  *  *  express "  got  under  way. 
The  road  wound  partly  through  the  woods.  In 
some  places  the  boughs,  bending  over  from  opposite 
sides,  nearly  met.  At  present  the  branches  were 
nearly  destitute  of  leaves,  and  the  landscape  looked 
bleak.  But  in  the  summer  nothing  could  be  more 
charming. 

From  his  seat  beside  Ajax,  Henry  Morton  regarded 
attentively  the  prominent  features  of  the  landscape. 
His  survey  was  interrupted  by  a  question  from  the 
driver. 

"  Are  you  calc'latin'  to  make  a  long  stay  in  our 
village?  "  inquired  Ajax,  with  Yankee  freedom. 

"I  am  not  quite  certain.  It  is  possible  that  L 
may." 

"  There  isn't  much  goin'  on  in  winter." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         121 

"  No,  I  suppose  not." 

After  a  few  minutes  pause  he  inquired,  "  Can  you 
tell  me  if  there  is  a  gentleman  living  in  the  village 
earned  Haynes  ?  " 

"  I  expect  you  mean  Squire  Haynes,"  said  Ajax. 

"  Very  probably  he  goes  by  that  name.  He  was 
formerly  a  lawyer." 

"  Yes,  that 's  the  man.     Do  you  know  him?  " 

"  I  have  heard  of  him,"  said  the  young  man,  non- 
committally. 

* '  Then  you  ain't  going  to  stop  there  ?  " 

An  expression  of  repugnance  swept  over  the  young 
man 's  face,  as  he  hastily  answered  in  the  negative. 

By  this  time  they  had  come  to  a  turn  in  the  road. 
This  brought  them  in  view  of  Chloe's  cottage. 
Little  Pomp  was  on  all  fours,  hunting  for  nuts  among 
the  fallen  leaves  under  a  shagbark-tree. 

Under  the  influence  of  some  freakish  impulse  Pomp 
suddenly  jumped  to  his  feet  and  whirling  his  arms 
aloft  uttered  a  wild  whoop.  Startled  by  the  unex 
pected  apparition,  the  horses  gave  a  sudden  start, 
and  nearly  succeeded  in  overturning  the  wagon. 

"  Massy  on  us  ! "  exclaimed  an  old  lady  on  the 
back  seat,  suddenly  flinging  her  arms  round  young 
Morton's  neck,  in  the  height  of  her  consternation. 

"  All  right,  marm,"  said  Ajax,  reassuringly,  after 
a  brief  but  successful  conflict  with  the  horses.     "  We 
shan't  go  over  this  time.     I  should  like  to  give  that 
little  black  imp  a  good  shaking." 
11 


122  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

"  O,  I  Ve  lost  my  ban'  box,  with  my  bestbunnet," 
hastily  exclaimed  the  old  lady".  ' '  Le'  me  get  out  and 
find  it.  It  was  a  present  from  my  darter,  Cynthy 
Ann,  and  I  would  n't  lose  it  for  a  kingdom." 

In  truth,  when  prompted  by  her  apprehensions  to 
cling  to  the  young  man  in  front  for  protection,  Mrs. 
Payson  had  inadvertently  dropped  the  bandbox  out 
of  the  window,  where  it  met  with  an  unhappy  disas 
ter.  The  horse,  quite  unconscious  of  the  damage  he 
was  doing,  had  backed  the  wagon  in  such  a  manner 
that  one  of  the  wheels  passed  directly  over  it. 

When  Ajax  picked  up  the  mutilated  casket, 
which,  with  the  jewel  it  contained,  had  suffered  such 
irreparable  injury,  and  restored  it  to  its  owner, 
great  was  the  lamentation.  Eachel  weeping  for  her 
children  could  hardly  have  exhibited  more  poignant 
sorrow. 

"  O  it's  sp'ilt !"  groaned  the  old  lady,  "  I  can 
never  wear  it  arter  this.  And  it  cost  four  dollars 
and  sixty-two  cents  and  a  half  without  the  ribbon. 
O,  deary  me  !  " 

Then  suddenly  waxing  indignant  with  the  author 
of  the  mischief,  she  put  her  head  out  of  the  window, 
and  espying  Pomp  on  the  other  side  of  the  stone  wall, 
looking  half  repentant  and  half  struck  with  the  fun 
of  the  thing,  she  shook  her  fist  at  him,  exclaiming, 
"  O,  you  little  sarpent,  ef  I  only  had  you  here,  I'd 
w'ip  you  till  you  could  n't  stan'." 

Pomp   was   so   far  from   being   terrified   by   this 


THE  FAUM  AND  THE  CAMP.        123 

menace  that  he  burst  into  a  loud  guffaw.  This, 
of  course,  added  fuel  to  the  flame  of  the  old  lady's 
wrath,  and  filled  her  with  thoughts  of  immediate 
vengeance.  Her  sympathy  with  the  oppressed  black 
race  was  at  that  moment  very  small. 

"  Jest  lend  me  your  w'ip,  driver,"  said  she,  "  an* 
I  '11  Tarn  that  sassy  imp  to  make  fun  of  his  elders." 

Ajax,  whose  sense  of  humor  was  tickled  by  the  old 
lady 's  peculiarities,  quietly  took  her  at  her  word,  and 
coming  round  to  the  side  opened  the  door  of  the 
carriage. 

"  There,  ma'am,"  said  he,  extending  the  whip. 
"  Don't  spare  him.  He  deserves  a  flogging." 

Mrs.  Pay  son,  her  eyes  flashing  from  beneath  her 
glasses  with  a  vengeful  light,  seized  the  proffered 
whip  with  alacrity,  and  jumped  out  of  the  wagon 
with  a  lightness  which  could  hardly  have  been  anti 
cipated  of  one  at  her  age. 

"Now,  look  out,"  she  said,  brandishing  the  whip 
in  a  menacing  way.  "  I'll  git  pay  for  that  bunnit 
in  one  way,  ef  I  don't  in  another." 

Pomp  maintained  his  position  on  the  other  side  of 
the  wall.  He  waited  till  the  old  lady  was  fairly 
over,  and  then  commenced  running.  The  old  lady 
pursued  with  vindictive  animosity,  cracking  the  whip 
in  a  suggestive  manner.  Pomp  doubled  and  turned 
ID  a  most  provoking  way.  Finally  he  had  recourse 
to  a  piece  of  strategy.  He  flung  himself,  doubled 
up  in  a  ball,  at  the  old  lady's  feet,  and  she,  unable 


124  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

to  check  her  speed,  fell  over  him,  clutching  at  the 
ground  with  her  outstretched  hands,  from  which  the 
whip  had  fallen. 

"  Hi,  hi ! "  shrieked  Pomp,  with  a  yell  of  incon 
ceivable  delight,  as  he  watched  the  signal  downfall 
of  his  adversary.  Springing  quickly  to  his  feet,  he 
ran  swiftly  away. 

"  Good  for  you,  you  old  debble  1 "  he  cried  from 
a  safe  distance. 

Henry  Morton,  though  he  found  it  difficult  to 
restrain  his  laughter,  turned  to  Ajax  and  said,  "I 
think  it 's  time  we  interfered.  If  you  '11  overtake  the 
little  black  boy  and  give  him  a  shaking  up,  just  to 
keep  him  out  of  mischief  hereafter,  I  '11  go  and  help 
the  old  lady." 

Ajax  started  on  his  errand.  Pomp,  now  really 
alarmed,  strove  to  escape  from  this  more  formidable 
adversary,  but  in  vain.  He  was  destined  to  receive 
a  summary  castigation. 

Meanwhile  the  young  man  approached  Mrs.  Pay- 
eon. 

"  I  hope  you're  not  much  hurt,  madam,"  said  he, 
respectfully. 

"  I  expect  about  every  bone  in  my  body's  broke," 
she  groaned. 

Raising  her  to  her  feet,  it  became  manifest  that 
the  damage  was  limited  to  a  pair  of  hands  begrimmed 
by  contact  with  the  earth.  Nevertheless,  the  old  lady 
persisted  that  "  something  or  'nother  was  broke. 
She  did  n't  feel  quite  right  inside." 


THE  FAKM  AND  THE  CAMP.        125 

"  I  shouldn't  keer  so  much,"  she  added,  "  ef  I'd 
caught  that  aggravatin'  boy.  I  'd  go  fifty  miles  to 
see  him  hung.  He'll  die  on  the  gallows,  jest  as 
sure 's  I  stan'  here." 

At  this  moment  a  shrill  cry  was  heard,  which 
could  proceed  from  no  one  but  Pomp. 

"  Golly,  Mass'  Jack,  don't  hit  so  hard.  Couldn't 
help  it,  sure." 

"  You'll  have  to  help  it  the  next  time,  you  little 
rascal !  "  responded  Ajax. 

"  Le'  me  go.  I  hope  to  be  killed  if  I  ever  do  it 
ag'in,"  pleaded  Pomp,  dancing  about  in  pain. 

"  I  hope  you  gin  it  to  him,"  said  the  old  lady,  as 
the  driver  reappeared. 

Ajax  smiUd  grimly.  "  I  touched  him  up  a  little," 
he  said. 

"  O  my  poor  bunnit ! "  groaned  Mrs.  Payson, 
once  more,  is  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  crushed  article. 
"  What  ^rill  Cynthy  Ann  say  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  a  milliner  can  restore  it  for  you,"  sug 
gested  Henry  Morton,  with  an  attempt  at  consolation. 

The  old  lady  shook  her  head  disconsolately. 
"  It's  all  jammed  out  of  shape,"  she  said,  dismally, 
"an'  the  flowers  is  all  mashed  up.  Looks  as  ef  an 
elephant  had  trodden  on  to  it." 

' '  As   you    are  the  only  one  of  us  that  has  suf 
fered,"  said  the  young  man,  politely,  "  I  think  it  only 
fair  that  your  loss  should  be  lightened.     Will  you 
accept  this  towards  making  it  good  ?  " 
11* 


126  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

He  drew  from  his  porte-monnaie  a  five-dollar 
greenback,  as  he  spoke,  and  offered  it  to  Mrs. 
Pay  son. 

"Are  you  in  airnest?"  inquired  the  ola  lady, 
dubiously. 

"  Quite  so." 

"  You  ain't  robbin'  yourself,  be  you?"  asked  Mrs. 
Payson,  with  a  look  of  subdued  eagerness  lighting 
up  her  wrinkled  face. 

"  O  no  ;  I  can  spare  it  perfectly  well." 

"Then  I'll  take  it,"  she  responded,  in  evident 
gratification,  "an' I'm  sure  I'm  much  obleeged  to 
you.  I  'm  free  to  confess  that  you  're  a  gentleman 
sech  as  I  don't  often  meet  with.  I  would  n't  take  it 
on  no  account,  only  the  loss  is  considerable  for  me, 
and  Cynthy  Ann,  she  would  have  been  disappointed 
if  so  be  as  I  had  n't  worn  the  bunnit.  I  'd  like  to 
know  who  it  is  that  I'm  so  much  obligated  to." 

Henry  Morton  drew  a  card  from  his  card- case  and 
handed  it  with  a  bow  to  Mrs.  Payson. 

"  What 's  that  ?  "  asked  the  old  lady  v 

"  My  card." 

"  Le's  see,  where 's  my  specs?"  said  Mrs  Pay- 
son,  fumbling  in  her  pocket.  "  O  I've  got  'em  on. 
So  your  name 's  Herod.  What  made  'em  call  you 
that?"  , 

"  Henry,  madam,  — Henry  Morton." 

"Well  so  'tis,  I  declare.  You  ain't  related  to 
Nahum  Morton,  of  Gilead,  be  you ;  he  that  was  put 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        127 

into  the  State's  Prison  for  breakin'  open  the  Gilead 
Bank?" 

An  amused  smile  overspread  the  young  man's 
face. 

"  I  never  had  any  relatives  sent  to  the  State's 
Prison,"  he  answered  ;  "  though  I  think  it  quite  pos 
sible  that  some  of  them  may  have  Reserved  it." 

"Jest  so,"  assented  the  old  lady.  "There's  a 
good  deal  of  iniquity  that  never  comes  to  light.  I 
once  know'd  a  woman  that  killed  her  husband  with 
the  tongs,  and  nobody  ever  surmised  it ;  though 
everybody  thought  it  strange"  that  he  should  disap 
pear  so  suddint.  Well,  this  woman  on  her  death-bed 
owned  up  to  the  tongs  in  a  crazy  fit  that  she  had. 
But  the  most  cur'us  part  of  it,"  the  old  lady  added 
rather  illogically,  "  was,  that  the  man  was  livin'  all 
the  while,  and  it  was  all  his  wife's  fancy  that  she'd 
struck  him  with  the  tongs." 

By  this  time  the  "  express"  had  rumbled  into  the 
main  street  of  Rossville,  and  the  old  lady  had  hardly 
completed  her  striking  illustration  of  the  truth,  that 
murder  will  out,  before  they  had  drawn  up  in  front 
of  the-  tavern. 

"  Ain't  you  a  goin'  to  carry  me  to  my  darter's 
house?"  she  inquired  with  solicitude.  "I  can't 
walk  noway." 

"  Yes  ma'am,"  answered  Ajax ;  "  directly,  just  as 
soon  as  this  gentleman  'a  got  out,  and  they  Ve  taken 
the  mail." 


128  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

He  tossed  the  mail-bag  to  a  small  boy  who  stood 
on  the  piazza  in  waiting  to  receive  it,  and  then, 
whipping  up  his  horses,  speedily  conveyed  Mrs. 
Payson  to  her  destination. 

"He's  a  very  nice  obleeging  young  man,"  said 
the  old  lady,  referring  to  Henry  Morton.  "  I  won 
der  ef  his  mother  was  a  Bent.  There 's  old  Micajah 
Bent's  third  daughter,  Roxana  Jane,  married  a  Mor 
ton,  or  it  might  have  been  a  Moultoa.  Ever  see 
him  afore  ?  " 

"  No  ma'am.     Here  you  are." 

"  So  I  be  ;  and  there 's  Reuben  at  the  gate.  How 
are  ye  all?  Jest  take  this  carpet-bag,  will  ye,  and 
I  '11  give  you  a  cent  some  time  or  'nother." 

Reuben  did  not  appear  much  elated  by  this  prom 
ise.  It  had  been  made  too  many  times  without 
fulfilment. 

The  old  lady  having  reached  her  destination,  we 
take  leave  of  her  for  the  present,  promising  to  resume 
her  acquaintance  in  subsequent  chapters. 


XVI. 

FRANK   MAKES   A   FKIEND. 

HENRY  MORTON  rose  with  the  sun.  This  was  not 
BO  early  as  may  be  supposed,  for  already  November 
had  touched  its  middle  point,  and  the  tardy  sun  did 
not  make  its  appearance  till  nearly  seven  o'clock. 
As  he  passed  through  the  hall  he  noticed  that  break 
fast  was  not  quite  ready. 

"  A  little  walk  will  sharpen  my  appetite,"  he 
thought. 

He  put  on  his  hat,  and  passing  through  the  stable- 
yard  at  the  rear,  climbed  over  a  fence  and  ascended  a 
hill  which  he  had  observed  from  his  chamber-window. 
The  sloping  sides, which  had  not  yet  wholly  lost  their 
appearance  of  verdure,  were  dotted  with  trees,  most 
ly  apple-trees. 

"  It  must  be  delightful  in  summer,"  said  the  young 
man,  as  he  looked  thoughtfully  about  him. 

The  hill  was  by  no  means  high,  and  five  minutes 
walk  brought  him  to  the  summit.  From  this  spot 
he  had  a  fine  view  of  the  village  which  lay  at  his 
feet  embowered  in  trees.  A  narrow  river  wound  like 
a  silver  thread  through  the  landscape  Groups  of 
trees  on  either  bank  bent  over  as  if  to  see  themselves 


130  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

reflected  in  the  rapid  stream.  At  one  point  a  dam 
had  been  built  across  from  bank  to  bank,  above  which 
the  river  widened  and  deepened,  affording  an  excel 
lent  skating-ground  for  the  boys  in  the  cold  days  of 
December  and  January,  A  whirring  noise  was 
heard.  The  grist-mill  had  just  commenced  its  work 
for  the  day.  Down  below  the  dam  the  shallow 
water  eddied  and  whirled,  breaking  in  fleecy  foam 
over  protuberant  rocks  which  lay  in  the  river-bed. 

The  old  village  church  with  its  modest  proportions 
occupied  a  knoll  between  the  hill  and  the  river.  It 
was  girdled  about  with  firs  intermingled  with  elms. 
Near  by  was  a  small  triangular  common,  thickly  plant 
ed  with  trees,  each  facing  a  separate  street.  Houses 
clustered  here  and  there.  Comfortable  buildings 
they  were,  but  built  evidently  rather  for  use  than 
show.  The  architect  had  not  yet  come  to  the  assist 
ance  of  the  village  carpenter. 

Seen  in  the  cheering  light  of  the  rising  sun,  Henry 
Morton  could  not  help  feeling  that  a  beautiful  picture 
was  spread  out  before  him. 

"  After  all,"  he  said,  thoughtfully,  "  we  needn't 
go  abroad  for  beauty,  when  we  can  find  so  much  of 
it  at  our  own  doors.  Yet,  perhaps  the  more  we  see 
of  the  beautiful,  the  better  we  are  fitted  to  appreciate 
it  in  the  wonderful  variety  of  its  numberless  forms. " 

He  slowly  descended  the  hill,  but  in  a  different  di 
rection.  This  brought  him  to  the  road  that  connect 
ed  the  village  with  North  Rossville,  two  miles  distant. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         131 

Coming  from  a  different  direction,  a  boy  reached 
the  stile  about  the  same  time  with  himself,  and  both 
clambered  over  together. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  morning,"  said  the  young  man, 
courteously. 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  the  respectful  answer.  "  Have 
you  been  up  looking  at  the  view  ?  " 

"Yes,  —  and  to  get  an  appetite  for  breakfast. 
And  you?" 

Frank  Frost  (for  it  was  he)  laughed.  "  O,  I  am 
here  on  quite  a  different  errand,"  he  said.  "  I  used 
to  come  here  earlier  in  the  season  to  drive  the  cows 
to  pasture.  I  come  this  morning  to  carry  some  milk 
to  a  neighbor  who  takes  it  of  us.  She  usually  sends 
for  it,  but  her  son  is  just  now  sick  with  the  measles." 

"  Yet  I  think  you  cannot  fail  to  enjoy  the  pleasant 
morning,  even  if  you  are  here  for  other  purposes." 

"I  do  enjoy  it  very  much,"  said  Frank.  "  When 
I  read  of  beautiful  scenery  in  other  countries,  I 
always  wish  that  I  could  visit  them,  and  see  for 
myself." 

"  Perhaps  you  will  some  day." 

Frank  smiled,  and  shook  his  head  incredulously. 
"  I  am  afraid  there  is  not  much  chance  of  it,"  he 
said. 

"  So  I  thought  when  I  was  of  your  age,"  returned 
Henry  Morton. 

"  Then  you  have  travelled?"  said  Frank,  looking 
interested. 


132  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"  Yes.  I  have  visited  most  of  the  countries  of 
Europe." 

"  Have  you  been  in  Rome?"  inquired  Frank. 

"  Yes.     Are  you  interested  in  Rome?" 

"Who  could  help  it,  sir?  I  should  like  to  see 
the  Capitol,  and  the  Via  Sacra,  and  the  Tarpeian 
Rock,  and  the  Forum, —  and,  in  fact,  Rome  must  be 
full  of  objects  of  interest.  Who  knows  but  I  might 
tread  where  Cicero,  and  Virgil,  and  Ca3sar  had  trod 
den  before  me  ?  " 

Henry  Morton  looked  at  the  boy  who  stood  beside 
him  with  increased  interest.  "  I  see  you  are  quite  a 
scholar,"  he  said.  "  Where  did  you  learn  about  all 
these  men  and  places  ?  " 

"I  have  partly  prepared  for  college,"  answered 
Frank  ;  ' '  but  my  father  went  to  the  war  some  weeks 
skice,  and  I  am  staying  at  home  to  take  charge  of 
the  farm,  and  supply  his  place  as  well  as  I  can." 

'  *  It  must  have  been  quite  a  sacrifice  to  you  to 
give  up  your  studies?"  said  his  companion. 

"Yes,  sir,  it  was  a  great  sacrifice;  but  we  must 
all  of  us  sacrifice  something  in  these  times.  Even 
the  boys  can  do  something  for  their  country." 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  Henry  Morton, 
more  and  -nore  pleased  with  his  chance  acquaintance. 
' 4 1  should  like  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
you." 

Frank  blushed,  and  his  expressive  face  showed 
that  he  was  gratified  by  the  compliment. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         133 

"  My  name  is  Frank  Frost/'  he  answered,  "  and  I 
live  about  half  a  mile  from  here." 

"  And  I  am  Henry  Morton.  I  am  stopping  tem 
porarily  at  the  hotel.  Shall  you  be  at  leisure  this 
evening,  Frank?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

' '  Then  I  should  be  glad  to  receive  a  call  from 
you.  I  have  no  acquaintances,  and  perhaps  we  may 
help  each  other  to  make  the  evening  pass  pleasantly. 
I  have  some  pictures  collected  abroad,  which  I  think 
you  might  like  to  look  at." 

"I  shall  be  delighted  to  come,"  said  Frank,  his 
eyes  sparkling  with  pleasure. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  church,  which 
was  distant  but  a  few  rods  from  the  hotel.  They 
had  just  turned  the  corner  of  the  road,  when  the 
clang  of  a  bell  was  heard . 

"I  suppose  that  is  my  breakfast-bell,"  said  the 
young  man.  "  It  finds  me  with  a  good  appetite. 
Good-morning,  Frank.  I  will  expect  you,  then, 
this  evening." 

Frank  returned  home,  feeling  quite  pleased  with 
his  invitation. 

"  I  wish,"  thought  he,  "  that  I  might  see  consid 
erable  of  Mr.  Morton.  I  could  learn  a  great  deal 
from  him,  he  has  seen  so  much." 

His  road  led  him  past  the  house  of  Squire  Haynes. 
John  was  sauntering  about  the  yard  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets. 

12 


134  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR,      * 

"  Good -morning,  John,"  said  Frank,  in  a  pleasant 
voice. 

John  did  not  seem  inclined  to  respond  to  this  po 
liteness.  On  seeing  Frank  he  scowled,  and  without 
deigning  to  make  a  reply  turned  his  back  and  went 
into  the  house.  He  had  not  forgotten  the  last  occa 
sion  on  which  they  had  met  in  the  woods,  when 
Frank  defeated  his  cruel  designs  upon  poor  Pomp. 
There  was  not  much  likelihood  that  he  would  forget 
it  very  soon. 

"  I  can't  understand  John,"  thought  Frank. 
"  The  other  boys  will  get  mad  and  get  over  it  be 
fore  the  next  day ;  John  broods  over  it  for  weeks. 
I  really  believe  he  hates  me.  But  of  course  I 
couldn't  act  any  differently.  I  wasn't  going  to 
stand  by  and  see  Pomp  beaten.  I  should  do  just 
the  same  again." 

The  day  wore  away,  and  in  the  evening  Frank 
presented  himself  at  the  hotel,  and  inquired,  for 
Mr.  Morton.  He  was  ushered  up  stairs,  and  told 
to  knock  at  the  door  of  a  room  in  the  second  story. 

His  knock  was  answered  by  the  young  man  in 
person,  who  shook  his  hand  with  a  pleasant  smile, 
and  invited  him  in. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Frank,"  he  said,  very  cor 
dially. 

16  And  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  inviting  me, 
Mr.  Morton." 

They  sat  down  together  beside  the  table,  and  con- 


THE    FARM    AND    THE    CAMP. 


versed  on  a  variety  of  topics.  Frank  had  num  ^ 
less  questions  to  ask  about  foreign  scenes  and  coun 
tries,  all  of  which  were  answered  with  the  utmost 
readiness.  Henry  Morton  brought  out  a  large  port 
folio  containing  various  pictures,  some  on  note  paper, 
representing  scenes  in  different  parts  of  Europe. 

The  evening  wore  away  only  too  rapidly  for  Frank. 
He  had  seldom  passed  two  hours  so  pleasantly.  At 
half  past  nine,  he  rose,  and  said  half  regretfully,  "  I 
wish  you  were  going  to  live  in  the  village  this  winter, 
Mr.  Morton." 

The  young  man  smiled.  "  Such  is  my  intention, 
Frank,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"  Shall  you  stay  ?  "  said  Frank,  joyfully.  "  I  sup 
pose  you  will  board  here." 

"  I  should  prefer  a  quieter  boarding-place.  Can 
you  recommend  one  ?  " 

Frank  hesitated. 

"  Where,"  continued  Mr.  Morton,  "  I  could  en 
joy  the  companionship  of  an  intelligent  young  gentle 
man  of  your  age  ?  " 

"If  we  lived  nearer  the  village,"  Frank  began, 
and  stopped  abruptly. 

"  Half  a  mile  would  be  no  objection  to  me.  As  I 
don't  think  you  will  find  it  unpleasant,  Frank,  I  will 
authorize  you  to  offer  your  mother  five  dollars  a 
week  for  a  room  and  a  seat  at  her  table." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  she  would  be  willing,  Mr. 
Morton,  but  I  am  afraid  we  should  not  live  well 


136  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

enough  to  suit  you.  And  I  don't  think  you  ought 
to  pay  so  much  as  five  dollars  a  week." 

"Leave  that  to  me,  Frank.  My  main  object  is 
to  obtain  a  pleasant  home ;  and  that  I  am  sure  I 
should  find  at  your  house." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Frank  ;  "  I  will  mention  it 
to  my  mother,  and  let  you  know  in  the  course  of 
to-morrow." 


XVII. 

A   SHADE   OF   MYSTERY. 

FRANK  found  little  difficulty  in  persuading  his 
mother  to  accept  young  Morton's  proposition.  From 
her  son's  description  she  felt  little  doubt  that  he 
would  be  a  pleasant  addition  to  the  family  circle, 
while  his  fund  of  information  would  make  him  in 
structive  as  well  as  agreeable. 

There  was  another  consideration  besides  which  de 
termined  her  to  take  him.  Five  dollars  a  week  would 
go  a  great  ways  in  housekeeping,  or  rather,  as  their 
income  from  other  sources  would  probably  be  suffi 
cient  for  this,  she  could  lay  aside  the  entire  amount 
towards  paying  the  mortgage  held  by  Squire  Haynes. 
This  plan  occurred  simultaneously  to  Frank  and  his 
mother. 

"  I  should  certainly  feel  myself  to  blame  if  I 
neglected  so  good  an  opportunity  of  helping  your 
father,"  said  Mrs.  Frost. 

"  Suppose  we  don't  tell  him,  mother,"  suggested 
Frank  ;  < '  but  when  he  gets  home  surprise  him  with 
the  amount  of  our  savings." 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  after  a  moment's  thought, 
*  *  your  father  will  be  all  the  better  for  all  the  good 

12* 


138  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OB, 

news  we  can  send  him.  It  will  make  his  life  more 
tolerable." 

Frank  harnessed  his  horse  to  a  light  wagon  and 
drove  down  to  the  tavern. 

Henry  Morton  was  sitting  on  the  piazza,  as  the 
day  was  unusually  warm,  with  a  book  in  his  hand. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  looking  up  with  a  smile,  "I 
hope  you  have  come  for  me." 

"  That  is  my  errand,  Mr.  Morton,"  answered 
Frank.  "  If  your  trunk  is  already  packed,  we  will 
take  it  along  with  us." 

4 *  It  is  quite  ready.  If  you  will  come  up  and  help 
me  down  stairs  with  it,  I  will  settle  with  the  land 
lord  and  leave  at  once." 

This  was  speedily  arranged,  and  the  young  man 
soon  occupied  a  seat  beside  Frank. 

Arrived  at  the  farm-house,  Frank  introduced  the 
new  boarder  to  his  mother. 

"  I  hope  we  shall  be  able  to  make  you  comfort 
able,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  in  a  hospitable  tone. 

*'  I  entertain  no  doubt  of  it,"  he  said,  politely. 
"  I  am  easy  to  suit,  and  I  foresee  that  Frank  and  I 
will  become  intimate  friends." 

"  He  was  very  urgent  to  have  you  come.  I  am 
not  quite  sure  whether  it  would  have  been  safe  for 
me  to  refuse." 

"  I  hope  he  will  be  as  urgent  to  have  me  stay. 
That  will  be  a  still  higher  compliment." 

"  Here  is  the  room  you  are  to  occupy,  Mr.  Mor- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         139 

ton,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  opening  a  door  at  the  head  of 
the  front  stairs. 

It  was  a  large  square  room,  occupying  the  front 
eastern  corner  of  the  house.  The  furniture  was  neat 
and  comfortable,  though  not  pretentious. 

"  I  like  this,"  said  the  young  man,  surveying  his 
new  quarters  with  an  air  of  satisfaction.  "  The  sun 
will  find  me  out  in  the  morning." 

"  Yes,  it  will  remain  with  you  through  the  fore 
noon.  I  think  you  will  find  the  room  warm  and 
comfortable.  But  whenever  you  get  tired  of  it  you 
will  be  welcome  down  stairs." 

"  That  is  an  invitation  of  which  I  shall  be  only 
too  glad  to  avail  myself.  Now,  Frank,  if  you  will 
be  kind  enough  to  help  me  up  stairs  with  my  trunk." 

The  trunk  was  carried  up  between  them,  and 
placed  in  a  closet. 

' '  I  will  send  for  a  variety  of  articles  from  the  city 
to  make  my  room  look  social  and  cheerful,"  said  Mr. 
Morton.  "I  have  some  books  and  engravings  in 
Boston,  which  I  think  will  contribute  to  make  it  so." 

A  day  or  two  later,  two  large  boxes  arrived,  one 
containing  pictures,  the  other  books.  Of  the  latter 
there  were  perhaps  a  hundred  and  fifty,  choice  and 
well  selected. 

Frank  looked  at  them  with  avidity. 

* «  You  shall  be  welcome  to  use  them  as  freely  as 
you  like,"  said  their  owner,  —  an  offer  which  Frank 
gratefully  accepted. 


140  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

The  engravings  were  tastefully  framed  in  black  wal 
nut.  One  represented  one  of  Raphael's  Madonnas. 
Another  was  a  fine  photograph,  representing  a  pal 
ace  in  Venice.  Several  others  portrayed  foreign 
scenes.  Among  them  was  a  street  scene  in  Koine. 
An  entire  family  were  sitting  in  different  postures  on 
the  portico  of  a  fine  building,  the  man  with  his 
swarthy  features  half  concealed  under  a  slouched  hat, 
the  woman  holding  a  child  in  her  lap,  while  another, 
a  boy  with  large  black  eyes,  leaned  his  head  upon 
her  knees. 

"  That  represents  a  Roman  family  at  home,"  ex 
plained  Henry  Morton. 

"  At  home!" 

"  Yes,  it  is  the  only  home  they  have.  They  sleep 
wherever  night  finds  them,  sheltering  themselves  from 
the  weather  as  well  as  they  can." 

*  *  But  how  do  they  get  through  the  winter  ?  I 
should  think  they  would  freeze." 

"  Nature  has  bestowed  upon  Italy  a  mild  climate, 
so  that  although  they  may  find  the  exposure  at  this 
season  disagreeable,  they  are  in  no  danger  of  freezing." 

There  was  another  engraving  which  Frank  looked 
at  curiously.  It  represented  a  wagon  laden  with 
casks  of  wine,  and  drawn  by  an  ox  and  a  donkey 
yoked  together.  Underneath  was  a  descriptive  phrase, 
*'  Carro  di  vino." 

"You  don't  see  such  teams  in  this  country,"  said 
Mr.  Morton,  smiling.  "In  Italy  they  are  common 


THE  FAKM  AND  THE  CAMP.         141 

enough.  In  the  background  you  notice  a  priest  with 
a  shovel-hat,  sitting  sideways  on  a  donkey.  Such  a 
sight  is  much  more  common  there  than  that  of  a  man 
on  horseback.  Indeed,  this  stubborn  animal  is  found 
very  useful  in  ascending  and  descending  mountains, 
being  much  surer- footed  than  the  horse.  I  have 
ridden  down  steep  descents  along  the  verge  of  a 
precipice  where  it  would  have  been  madness  to  ven 
ture  on  horseback,  but  I  felt  the  strongest  confidence 
in  the  donkey  I  bestrode." 

Frank  noticed  a  few  Latin  books  in  the  collection. 
*-  Do  you  read  Latin,  Mr.  Morton?"  he  inquired. 

44  Yes,  with  tolerable  ease.  If  I  can  be  of  any 
assistance  to  you  in  carrying  on  your  Latin  studies,  it 
will  afford  me  pleasure  to  do  so." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Morton. 
I  tried  to  go  on  with  it  by  myself,  but  every  now  and 
then  I  came  to  a  difficult  sentence  which  I  could  not 
make  out." 

'  *  I  think  we  can  overcome  the  difficulties  between 
us.  At  any  rate  we  will  try.  Have  no  hesitation 
in  applying  to  me." 

Before  closing  this  chapter,  I  think  it  necessary  to 
narrate  a  little  incident  which  served  to  heighten  the 
interest  with  which  Frank  regarded  his  new  friend, 
though  it  involved  the  latter  in  a  shadow  of  mystery. 

Mrs.  Frost  did  not  keep  what  in  New  England  is 
denominated  "  help."  Being  in  good  health,  she 
performed  the  greater  part  of  her  household  tasks 


142  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  on, 

unassisted.  When  washing  and  house-cleaning  days 
came,  however,  she  obtained  outside  assistance.  For 
this  purpose  she  engaged  Chloe  to  come  twice  a 
week,  on  Monday  and  Saturday,  not  only  because  in 
this  way  she  could  help  the  woman  to  earn  a  living, 
but  also  because  she  found  her  a  valuable  and  effi 
cient  assistant. 

Henry  Morton  became  a  member  of  the  little 
household  at  the  farm  on  Thursday,  and  two  days 
later  Chloe  came  as  usual  to  "  clean  house." 

The  young  man  was  standing  in  the  front  yard  as 
Chloe,  with  a  white  turban  on  her  head,  for  she  had 
not  yet  laid  aside  her  Southern  mode- of  dress,  came 
from  the  street  by  a  little  path  which  led  to  the  back 
door.  Her  attention  was  naturally  drawn  to  the 
young  man.  No  sooner  did  she  obtain  a  full  view  of 
him,  than  she  stopped  short  and  exclaimed  with  every 
appearance  of  surprise,  "  Why,  Mass'  Richard, 
who  'd  a  thought  to  see  you  here.  You  look  just 
like  you  used  to,  dat's  a  fac.  It  does  my  old  eyes 
good  to  see  you." 

Henry  Morton  turned  suddenly. 

"  What,  Chloe  !  "  he  exclaimed  in  equal  surprise. 
"  What  brings  you  up  here?  —  I  thought  you  were 
miles  away  in  Virginia." 

"  So  I  was,  Mass'  Richard.  But  lor'  bless  you, 
when  de  Linkum  sogers  come,  I  could  n't  stay  no 
longer.  I  took  and  runned  away." 

'*  And  here  you  are,  then." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         143 

"  Yes,  Mass'  Richard,  here  I  is,  for  sure." 

"  How  do  you  like  the  North,  Chloe?  " 

"  Don't  like  it  as  well  as  de  Souf.  It's  too  cold," 
and  Chloe  shivered. 

"  But  you  would  rather  be  here  than  there?" 

"  Yes,  Mass'  Richard.  Here  I  own  myself. 
Don't  have  no  oberseer  to  crack  his  whip  at  me  now. 
I  'se  a  free  woman  now,  and  so's  my  little  Pomp." 

The  young  man  smiled  at  the  innocent  mistake. 

"  Pomp  is  your  little  boy,  I  suppose,  Chloe." 

"Yes,  Mass' Richard." 

' «  Is  he  a  good  boy?" 

61  He's  as  sassy  as  de  debbel,"  said  Chloe,  emphat 
ically.  "  I  don't  know  what's  going  to  come  of  dat 
boy.  He 's  most  worried  my  life  out." 

"  O,  he  '11  grow  better  as  he  grows  older.  —  Don't 
trouble  yourself  about  him.  But,  Chloe,  there  'a 
one  favor  I  am  going  to  ask  of  you." 

"  Yes,  Mass'  Richard." 

'*  Don't  call  me  by  my  real  name.  For  some 
reasons,  which  I  can't  at  present  explain,  I  prefer  to 
be  known  as  Henry  Morton,  for  some  months  to  come. 
Do  you  think  you  can  remember  to  call  me  by  that 

•  j    99 

name : 

"  Yes,  Mass'  —  Henry,"  said  Chloe,  looking  per 
plexed. 

Henry  Morton  turned  round  to  meet  the  surprised 
looks  of  Frank  and  his  mother. 

**  My  friends,"  he  said,  "  I  hope  you  will  not  feel 


144  FEANK'S  CAMPAIGN  . 

distrustful  of  me,  when  I  freely  acknowledge  to  you 
that  imperative  reasons  compel  me  for  a  time  to  ap 
pear  under  a  name  not  my  own.  Chloe  and  I  are 
old  acquaintances,  but  I  must  request  her  to  keep 
secret  for  a  time  her  past  knowledge  concerning  me. 
I  think,"  he  added  with  a  smile,  "  that  she  would 
have  nothing  to  say  that  would  damage  me.  Some 
time  you  shall  know  all.  Are  you  satisfied  ?  " 

**  Quite  so,"  said  Mrs.  Frost.  "  I  have  no  doubt 
you  have  good  and  sufficient  reasons." 

"  I  will  endeavor  to  justify  your  confidence,"  said 
Henry  Moiton,  an  expression  of  pleasure  lighting  up 
his  face. 


xvni. 

THANKSGIVING   AT    THE    FARM. 

THE  chill  November  days  drew  to  a  close.  The 
shrill  winds  whistled  through  the  branches  of  the 
trees,  and  stirred  the  leaves  which  lay  in  brown  heaps 
upon  the  ground.  But  at  the  end  of  the  month 
came  Thanksgiving,  —  the  farmer's  Harvest  Home. 
The  fruits  of  the  field  were  in  abundance,  but  in 
many  a  home  there  were  vacant  chairs,  never  more, 
alas  !  to  be  filled.  But  he  who  dies  in  a  noble  cause 
leaves  sweet  and  fragrant  memories  behind,  which 
shall  ever  after  make  it  pleasant  to  think  of  him. 

Thanksgiving  morning  dawned  foggy  and  cold. 
Yet  there  is  something  in  the  name  that  warms  the 
heart  and  makes  the  dullest  day  seem  bright.  The 
sunshine  of  the  heart  more  than  compensates  for  the 
absence  of  sunshine  without. 

Frank  had  not  been  idle. 

The  night  before  he  helped  Jacob  kill  a  Turkey 
and  a  pair  of  chickens,  and  seated  on  a  box  in  the 
barn  they  had  picked  them  clean  in  preparation  for 
the  morrow. 

Within  the  house  too,  might  be  heard  the  notes  of 
busy  preparation.  Alice,  sitting  in  a  low  chair, 
18 


146  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

was  busily  engaged  in  chopping  meat  for  mince-pies» 
Maggie  sat  near  her  paring  pumpkins,  for  a  genuine 
New  England  Thanksgiving  cannot  be  properly  cele 
brated  without  pumpkin  pies.  Even  little  Charlie 
found  work  to  do  in  slicing  apples. 

By  evening  a  long  row  of  pies  might  be  seen  upon 
the  kitchen  dresser.  Brown  and  flaky  they  locked, 
fit  for  the  table  of  a  prince.  So  the  children  thought 
as  they  surveyed  the  attractive  array,  and  felt  that 
Thanksgiving,  come  as  often  as  it  might,  could  never 
be  unwelcome. 

Through  the  forenoon  of  Thanksgiving  Day  the 
preparations  continued.  Frank  and  Mr.  Morton 
went  to  the  village  church,  where  an  appropriate 
service  was  held  by  Rev.  Mr.  Apthorp.  There  were 
but  few  of  the  village  matrons  present.  They  were 
mostly  detained  at  home  by  housewifely  cares,  which 
on  that  day  could  not  well  be  delegated  to  other 
hands. 

44  Mr.  Morton,"  said  Frank,  as  they  walked 
leisurely  home,  4t  did  you  notice  how  Squire  Haynes 
stared  at  you  this  morning  ?  " 

Mr.  Morton  looked  interested.  "  Did  he?"  he 
asked.  "  I  did  not  notice." 

"  Yes,  he  turned  half  round,  and  looked  at  you 
with  a  puzzled  expression,  as  if  he  thought  he  had 
seen  you  somewhere  before,  but  could  not  recall  who 
you  were." 

"  Perhaps  I  reminded  him  of  some  one  he  has 


THE    FAItM   AND    TIIE    CAMP.  147 

known  in  past  years,"  said  the  yuiing  man,  quietly. 
14  We  sometimes  find  strange  resemblances  in  utter 
strangers." 

44  I  think  he  must  have  felt  quite  interested,"  pur 
sued  Frank,  "  for  he  stopped  me  after  church,  and 
inquired  who  you  were." 

«'  Indeed  !  "  said  Henry  Morton,  quietly.  "  And 
what  did  you  tell  him  ?  " 

"  I  told  him  your  name,  and  mentioned  that  you 
were  boarding  with  us." 

44  What  then?  Did  he  make  any  further  in 
quiries  ?  " 

44  He  asked  vrhere  you  came  from." 

44  He  seemed  quite  curious  about  me.  I  ought  to 
feel  flattered.  And  what  did  you  reply  ?  " 

44  I  told  him  I  did  not  know,  —  that  I  only  knew 
that  part  of  your  life  had  been  passed  in  Europe. 
I  heard  him  say  under  his  breath,  4  it  is  singular.'" 

44  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Morton,  after  a  moment's 
thought,  44I  wish  to  have  Squire  Haynes  learn  as 
little  of  me  as  possible.  If,  therefore,  he  should 
abk  you  how  I  am  employed,  you  may  say  that  I 
have  come  here  for  the  benefit  of  my  health.  This 
is  one  of  my  motives,  though  not  the  principal  one." 

44 1  will  remember,"  said  Frank.  "  I  don't  think 
he  will  say  much  to  me,  however.  He  has  a  grudge 
against  father,  and  his  son  does  not  like  me.  I  am 
sorry  that  father  is  compelled  to  have  some  business 
relations  with  the  Squire." 


148  FKANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"Indeed!" 

"  Yes,  he  holds  a  mortgage  on  our  farm  for  eight 
hundred  dollars.  It  was  originally  more,  but  it  has 
been  reduced  to  this.  He  will  have  the  right  to 
foreclose  on  the  first  of  July." 

"  Shall  you  have  the  money  ready  for  him  at  that 
time." 

"  No  ;  we  may  have  half  enough,  perhaps.  I  am 
sometimes  troubled  when  I  think  of  it.  Father  feels 
confident,  however,  that  the  Squire  will  not  be  hard 
upon  us,  but  will  renew  the  mortgage." 

Henry  Morton  looked  very  thoughtful,  but  said 
nothing. 

They  had  now  reached  the  farm-house. 

Dinner  was  already  on  the  table.  In  the  centre, 
on  a  large  dish,  was  the  turkej-,  done  to  a  turn.  It 
was  flanked  by  the  chickens  on  a  smaller  dish. 
These  were  supported  by  various  vegetables,  such  as 
the  season  supplied.  A  dish  of  cranberry  sauce 
stood  at  one  end  of  the  table,  and  at  the  opposite  end 
a  dish  of  apple  sauce. 

"Do  you  think  you  can  carve  the  turkey,  Mr. 
Morton?"  asked  Mrs.  Frost. 

"  I  will  at  least  make  the  attempt." 

"I  want  the  wish-bone,  Mr.  Morton,"  said 
Maggie. 

"  Xo,  I  want  it,"  said  Charlie. 

"You  shall  both  have  one,"  said  the  mother. 
Luckily  each  of  the  chickens  is  provided  with  one." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         149 

"  I  know  what  I  am  going  to  wish,"  said  Charlie, 
nodding  his  head  with  decision. 

"  Well,  Charlie,  what  is  it?  "  asked  Frank. 

" 1  shall  wish  that  papa  may  come  home  safe." 

"  And  so  will  I,"  said  Maggie. 

"  I  wish  he  might  sit  down  with  us  to-day,"  said 
Mrs.  Frost  with  a  little  sigh.  "  He  has  never  before 
been  absent  from  us  on  Thanksgiving  Day." 

"  Was  he  well  when  you  last  heard  from  him?" 

"  Yes,  but  hourly  expecting  orders  to  march  to 
join  the  army  in  Maryland.  I  am  afraid  he  won't 
get  as  good  a  Thanksgiving  dinner  as  this." 

"Two  years  ago,"  said  Mr.  Morton,  I  ate  my 
Thanksgiving  dinner  in  Amsterdam." 

"Do  they  have  Thanksgiving  there,  Mr.  Mor 
ton?"  inquired  Alice. 

"  No,  they  know  nothing  of  our  good  New  Eng 
land  festival.  I  was  obliged  to  order  a  special  din 
ner  for  myself.  I  don't  think  you  would  have 
recognized  plum  pudding  under  the  name  which 
they  gave  it." 

"  What  was  it?  "  asked  Frank,  curiously. 

"  Blom  budcn  was  the  name  given  on  the  bill." 

"  I  can  spell  better  than  that,"  said  Charlie. 

"  We  shall  have  to  send  you  out  among  the 
Dutchmen  as  a  schoolmaster  plenipotentiary,"  said 
Frank,  laughing.  "  I  hope  the  *  blom  buden*  was 
good  in  spite  of  the  way  it  was  spelt." 

"  Yes,  it  was  very  good." 

13* 


150  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  beat  mother's,"  said  Charlie. 

"  At  your  present  rate  of  progress,  Charlie,  you 
won't  leave  room  for  any,"  said  Frank. 

"  I  wish  I  had  two  stomachs,"  said  Charlie,  look 
ing  regretfully  at  the  inviting  delicacies  which  tempt 
ed  him  with  what  the  French  call  the  embarrassment 
of  riches. 

"  Well  done,  Charlie  !  "  laughed  his  mother. 

Dinner  was  at  length  over.  Havoc  and  desolation 
reigned  upon  the  once  well-filled  table. 

In  the  evening,  as  they  all  sat  together  round  the 
table,  Maggie  climbed  on  Mr.  Morton's  knee  and 
petitioned  for  a  story. 

"  What  shall  it  be  about?"  he  asked. 

"  O,  anything." 

"  Let  me  think  a  moment,"  said  the  young  man. 

He  bent  his  eyes  thoughtfully  upon  the  wood  fire 
that  crackled  in  the  wide  open  fireplace,  and  soon 
signified  that  he  was  rendy  to  begin. 

All  the  children  gathered  around  him,  and  even 
Mrs.  Frost,  sitting  quietly  at  her  knitting,  edged  her 
chair  a  little  nearer,  that  she  too  might  listen  to  Mr. 
Morton's  story.  As  this  was  of  some  length,  we 
devote  to  it  a  separate  chapter. 


XIX. 

THE   WONDERFUL   TRANSFORMATION. 

"  MY  story,"  commenced  Mr.  Morton,  "  is  rather 
*  remarkable  one  in  some  respects  ;  and  I  cannot 
vouch  for  its  being  true.  I  shall  call  it  *  The  Won 
derful  Transformation.' 

"  Thomas  Tubbs  was  a  prosperous  little  tailor, 
a/id  for  forty  years  had  been  a  resident  of  the  town 
of  Webbington,  where  he  had  been  born  and  brought 
up.  I  have  called  him  little,  and  you  will  agree 
with  me  when  I  say  that,  even  in  high-heeled  boots, 
which  he  always  wore,  he  measured  only  four  feet 
and  a  half  in  height. 

"  In  spite,  however,  of  his  under-size,  Thomas 
had  succeeded  in  winning  the  hand  of  a  woman  fifteen 
inches  taller  than  himself.  If  this  extra  height  had 
been  divided  equally  between  them,  possibly  they 
might  have  attracted  less  observation.  As  it  was, 
when  they  walked  to  church,  the  top  of  the  little 
tailor's  beaver  just  about  reached  the  shoulders  of 
Mrs.  Tubbs.  Nevertheless,  they  managed  to  live 
very  happily  together,  for  the  most  part,  though 
now  and  then,  when  Thomas  was  a  little  refractory, 
his  better  half  would  snatch  him  up  bodily,  and, 


152  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  on, 

carrying  him  to  the  cellar,  lock  him  up  theie.  Such 
little  incidents  only  served  to  spice  their  domestic  life, 
and  were  usually  followed  by  a  warm  reconciliation. 

"The  happy  pair  had  six  children,  all  of  whom 
took  after  their  mother,  and  promised  to  be  tall ;  the 
oldest  boy,  twelve  years  of  age,  being  already  taller 
than  his  father,  or  rather  he  would  have  been  but 
for  the  tall  hat  and  high-heeled  boots. 

"  Mr.  Tubbs  was  a  tailor,  as  I  have  said.  One 
day  there  came  into  his  shop  a  man  attired  with  ex 
treme  shabbiness.  Thomas  eyed  him  askance. 

"'Mr.  Tubbs,'  said  the  stranger,  'as  you  per 
ceive,  I  am  out  at  elbows.  I  would  like  to  get  you 
to  make  rne  up  a  suit  of  clothes.' 

"'Ahem!'  coughed  Thomas,  and  glanced  up 
wards  at  a  notice  affixed  to  the  door,  '  Terms,  Cash.* 

"  The  stranger's  eye  followed  the  direction  of  Mr. 
Tubbs's.  He  smiled. 

"  '  I  frankly  confess,'  he  said,  *  that  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  pay  immediately,  but,  if  I  live,  I  will  pay 
you  within  six  months.' 

"'How  am  I  to  feel  sure  of  that?'  asked  the 
tailor,  hesitating. 

"  * I  pledge  my  word,'  was  the  reply.  '  You  see, 
Mr.  Tubbs,  I  have  been  aick  for  some  time  past,  and 
that,  of  course,  has  usad  up  my  money.  Now, 
thank  Providence,  I  am  well  again,  and  ready  to  go 
to  work.  But  I  need  clothes,  as  you  see,  before  I 
have  the  ability  to  pay  for  them.' 


THE    FAIIM    AND    THE    CAMP.  153 

"  «  What's  your  name?*  asked  Thomas. 

"  «  Oswald  Rudenheimer,'  was  the  reply. 

"  *  A  foreigner?' 

"  '  As  you  may  suppose.  Now,  Mr.  Tubbs,  what 
do  you  say  ?  Do  you  think  you  can  trust  me  ? ' 

"  Thomas  examined  the  face  of  his  visitor.  He 
looked  honest,  and  the  little  tailor  had  a  good  deal 
of  confidence  in  the  excellence  of  human  nature. 

"'I  may  be  foolish,'  he  said  at  last,  'but  I'll 
do  it.' 

"  «  A  thousand  thanks  ! '  said  the  stranger.  «  You 
shan't  repent  of  it.' 

"  The  cloth  was  selected,  and  Thomas  set  to  work. 
In  three  days  the  suit  was  finished,  and  Thomas  sat 
in  his  shop  waiting  for  his  customer.  At  last  he 
came,  but  what  a  change  !  He  was  splendidly  dress 
ed.  The  little  tailor  hardly  recognized  him. 

"  '  Mr.  Tubbs,'  said  he,  *  you 're  an  honest  man 
and  a  good  fellow.  You  trusted  me  when  I  appeared 
penniless,  but  I  deceived  you.  I  am  really  one  of 
the  genii,  of  whom  perhaps  you  have  read,  and 
lineally  descended  from  those  who  guarded  Solomon's 
seal.  Instead  of  making  you  wait  for  your  pay,  I 
will  recompense  you  on  the  spot,  either  in  money 
or ' 

"  '  Or  what  ? '  asked  the  astonished  tailor. 

"  '  Or  I  will  grant  the  first  wish  that  may  be 
formed  in  your  mind.  Now  choose.' 

"  Thomas  did  not  take  long  to  choose.     His  charge 


154  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

would  amount  to  but  a  few  dollars,  while  he  might 
wish  for  a  million.  He  signified  his  decision. 

*'  '  Perhaps  you  have  chosen  wisely,"  said  his  vis 
itor.  '  But  mind  that  you  are  careful  about  your 
wish.  You  may  wish  for  something  you  don't  want.* 

"  '  No  fear  of  that,'  said  the  tailor,  cheerfully. 

"  *  At  any  rate,  I  will  come  this  way  six  months 
hence,  and  should  you  then  wish  to  be  released  from 
the  consequences  of  your  wish,  and  to  receive  instead 
the  money  stipulated  as  the  price  of  the  suit,  I  will 
give  you  the  chance.' 

"  Of  course  Thomas  did  not  object,  though  he 
considered  it  rather  a  foolish  provision. 

"  His  visitor  disappeared,  and  the  tailor  was  left 
alone.  He  laid  aside  his  work.  How  could  a  man 
be  expected  to  work  who  had  only  to  wish,  and  he 
could  come  into  possession  of  more  than  he  could 
earn  in  a  hundred  or  even  a  thousand  years  ? 

"  « I  might  as  well  enjoy  myself  a  little,'  thought 
Mr.  Tubbs.  <  Let  me  see.  I  think  there  is  a  show 
in  the  village  to-day.  I'll  go  to  it.' 

"  He  accordingly  slipped  on  his  hat  and  went  out, 
somewhat  to  the  surprise  of  his  wife,  who  concluded 
that  her  husband  must  be  going  out  on  business. 

"  Thomas  Tubbs  wended  his  way  to  the  market 
place.  He  pressed  in  among  the  people,  a  crowd  of 
whom  had  already  assembled  to  witness  the  show. 
1  cannot  tell  you  what  the  show  was.  I  am  only 
concerned  in  telling  you  what  Thomas  Tubbs  saw 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         155 

and  did ;  and,  to  tell  the  plain  truth,  he  did  n't  see 
anything  at  all.  He  was  wedged  in  among  people 
a  foot  or  two  taller  than  himself.  Xow  it  is  not 
pleasant  to  hear  all  about  you  laughing  heartily  and 
not  even  catch  a  glimpse  of  what  amuses  them  so 
much.  Thomas  Tubbs  was  human,  and  as  curious 
as  most  people.  Just  as  a  six-footer  squeezed  in 
front  of  him  he  could  not  help  framing,  in  his  vexa 
tions,  this  wish,  — 

"  *  O  dear  !  I  wish  I  were  ten  feet  high  ! ' 

*  <  Luckless  Thomas  Tubbs  !  Never  had  he  framed 
a  more  unfortunate  wish.  On  the  instant  he  shot 
up  from  r.n  nltitude  of  four  feet  six  to  ten  feet. 
Fortunately  his  clothes  expanded  proportionally. 
So,  instead  of  being  below  the  medium  height,  he 
was  raised  more  than  four  feet  above  it. 

"  Of  course  his  immediate  neighbors  became  aware 
of  the  gigantic  presence,  though  they  did  not  at  all 
recognize  its  identity  with  the  little  tailor,  Thomas 
Tubbs. 

"  At  once  there  was  a  shout  of  terror.  The 
crowd  scattered  in  all  directions,  forgetting  the  spec 
tacle  at  which,  the  moment  before,  they  had  been 
laughing  heartily,  and  the  little  tailor,  no  longer 
little,  was  left  alone  in  the  market-place. 

"'Good  heavens!'  he  exclaimed  in  bewilder 
ment,  stretching  out  his  brawny  arm,  nearly  five 
feet  in  length,  and  staring  at  it  in  ludicrous  astonish 
ment,  *  who  'd  have  thought  that  I  should  ever  be  so 
tall?' 


156  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  the  little  man  —  I  mean  Mr. 
Tubbs  —  at  first  rather  enjoyed  his  new  magnitude. 
He  had  experienced  mortification  so  long  on  account 
of  his  diminutive  stature,  that  he  felt  a  little  exhil 
arated  at  the  idea  of  being  able  to  look  down  on 
those  to  whom  he  had  hitherto  felt  compelled  to  look 
up.  It  was  rather  awkward  to  have  people  afraid  of 
him.  As  he  turned  to  leave  the  Square,  for  the  ex 
hibitor  of  the  show  had  run  off  in  the  general  panic, 
he  could  see  people  looking  at  him  from  third-story 
windows,  and  pointing  at  him  with  outstretched  fin 
gers  and  mouths  agape. 

"  *  Really,'  thought  Thomas  Tubbs,  '  I  never  ex 
pected  to  be  such  an  object  of  interest.  I  think  I  '11 
go  home.' 

* '  His  house  was  a  mile  off,  but  so  large  were  his 
strides  that  five  minutes  carried  him  to  it. 

"  Now  Mrs.  Tubbs  was  busy  putting  the  dinner 
on  the  table,  and  wondering  why  her  husband  did 
not  make  his  appearance.  She  was  fully  determined 
to  give  him  a  scolding  in  case  his  delay  was  so  great 
as  to  cause  the  dinner  to  cool.  All  at  once  she  heard 
a  bustle  at  the  door.  Looking  into  the  entry,  she 
saw  a  huge  man  endeavoring  to  make  hid  entrance 
into  the  house.  As  the  portal  was  only  seven  feet 
in  height,  it  was  not  accomplished  without  a  great 
deal  of  twisting  and  squirming. 

'•  Mrs.  Tubbs  turned  pale. 

"  4  What  are  you  trying  to  do,  you  monster?'  she 
faltered. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         157 

"  I  have  come  home  to  dinner,  Mary,'  was  the 
meek  reply. 

44  *  Come  home  to  dinner  /'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tubbs, 
aghast.  4  Who  in  the  name  of  wonder  are  you,  you 
overgrown  brute?' 

44  4  Who  am  I?'  asked  the  giant,  smiling  feebly, 
for  he  began  to  feel  a  little  queer  at  this  reception 
from  the  wife  with  whom  he  had  lived  for  fifteen 
years.  *  Ha,  ha  !  don't  you  know  your  own  hus 
band  —  your  Tommy  ? ' 

"'My  husband  !' exclaimed  Mrs.  Tubbs,  aston 
ished  at  the  fellow's  impudence.  *  You  don't  mean 
to  say  that  you  are  my  husband  ? J 

44  *  Of  course  I  am,'  said  Thomas. 

44  '  Then,'  said  Mrs.  Tubbs,  4 1  would  have  you 
know  that  my  husband  is  a  respectable  little  man, 
not  half  your  size.' 

44  4  O  dear  ! '  thought  Thomas.  *  Well,  here's  a 
kettle  of  fish  ;  my  own  wife  won't  own  me  ! ' 

44  4  So  I  was,'  he  said  aloud.  4 1  was  only  four 
feet  six  ;  but  I  've  —  I  've  grown.' 

44  4  Grown !'  Mrs.  Tubbs  laughed  hysterically. 
*  That's  a  likely  story,  when  it's  only  an  hour  since 
my  husband  went  into  the  street  as  short  as  ever.  I 
only  wish  he'd  come  in,  I  do,  to  expose  your  impo 
sition.' 

44  4  But  I  have  grown,  Mary,'  said  Tubbs,  piteous- 
ly.  4I  was  out  in  the  crowd,  and  I  couldn't  see 
what  was  going  on,  and  so  I  wished  I  was  ten  feet 
14 


158  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  on, 

high  ;  and  before  I  knew  it  I  was  as  tali  as  I  am 
now.' 

"  *  No  doubt/  said  Mrs.  Tubbs,  incredulously. 
'  As  to  that,  all  I  've  got  to  say  is,  that  you  M  better 
wish  yourself  back  again,  as  I  sha  n't  own  you  as  my 
husband  till  you  do  ! ' 

44  *  Really,'  thought  Mr.  Tubbs,  *  this  is  dreadful ! 
What  can  1  do  ! ' 

44  Just  then  one  of  his  children  ran  into  the  room. 

"  *  Johnny,  come  to  me,'  said  his  father,  implor 
ingly.  4  Come  to  your  father.' 

44  4  My  father!'  said  Johnny,  shying  out  of  the 
room.  4  You  ain't  my  father.  My  father  isn't  as 
tall  as  a  tree.' 

44  4  You  see  how  absurd  your  claim  is,'  said  Mrs. 
Tubbs.  4  You  '11  oblige  me  by  leaving  the  houce 
directly.' 

44  4  Leave  the  house  —  my  house  ! '  said  Tubbs. 

44  4  If  you  don't,  I'll  call  in  the  neighbors,'  said 
the  courageous  woman. 

"4I  don't  believe  they'd  dare  to  come,'  said 
Tubbs,  smiling  queerly  at  the  recollection  of  what  a 
sensation  his  appearance  had  made. 

"  4  Won't  you  go?' 

44  4  At  least  you'll  let  me  have  some  dinner.  I 
am  most  famished.' 

444  Dinner!'  said  Mrs.  Tubbs,  hesitating.  4I 
don't  think  there 's  enough  in  the  house.  However, 
you  can  sit  down  to  the  table.' 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  fAMP.         159 

"  Tubbs  attempted  to  sit  down  on  a  chair,  but  his 
weight  wus  so  great  that  it  was  crushed  beneath  him. 
Finally,  he  was  compelled  to  sit  on  the  floor,  and 
even  then  his  stature  was  such  that  his  head  rose  to 
the  height  of  six  feet. 

"  What  an  enormous  appetite  he  had,  too  !  The 
viands  on  the  table  seemed  nothing.  He  at  first  sup 
plied  his  plate  with  the  usual  quantity  ;  but  as  the 
extent  of  his  appetite  became  revealed  to  him,  he 
was  forced  to  make  way  with  everything  on  the  table. 
Even  then  he  was  hungry. 

"'Well,  I  declare,'  thought  Mrs.  Tubbs,  in 
amazement,  '  it  does  take  an  immense  quantity  to 
keep  him  alive  ! ' 

4k  Tubbs  rose  from  the  table,  and  in  doing  so  hit 
his  head  a  smart  whack  against  the  ceiling.  Before 
leaving  the  house  he  turned  to  make  a  last  appeal  to 
his  wife,  who,  he  could  not  help  seeing,  was  anxious 
to  have  him  go. 

"'Won't  you  own  me,  Mary? 'he  asked.  'It 
is  n't  my  fault  that  I  am  so  big.' 

"  '  Own  you  ! '  exclaimed  his  wife.  '  I  would  n't 
own  you  for  a  mint  of  money.  You'd  eat  me  out 
of  house  and  home  in  less  than  a  week.' 

"  'I  don't  know  but  I  should,'  said  Mr.  Tubbs, 
mournfully.  '  I  don't  see  what  gives  me  such  an 
appetite.  I  'in  hungry  now/ 

"  'Hungry,  after  you've  eaten  enough  for  six  I' 
exclaimed  his  wife,  aghast.  '  Well,  I  never  ! ' 


160  FRANK'S  COIPAIGN  ;  OR, 

'*  '  Then  you  won't  let  me  stay,  Mary? 

"  <  No,  no.' 

"  With  slow  and  sad  strides  Thomas  Tubbs  left  the 
house.  The  world  seemed  dark  enough  to  the  poor 
fellow.  Not  only  was  he  disowned  by  his  wife  and 
children,  but  he  could  not  tell  how  he  should  ever 
earn  enough  to  keep  him  alive,  with  the  frightful 
appetite  which  he  now  possessed.  '  I  don't  know,' 
he  thought,  '  but  the  best  way  is  to  drown  myself 
at  once.'  So  he  walked  to  the  river,  but  found  it 
was  not  deep  enough  to  drown  him. 

"  As  he  emerged  from  the  river  uncomfortably  wet, 
he  saw  a  man  timidly  approaching  him.  It  proved 
to  be  the  manager  of  the  show. 

"  '  Holloa  ! '  said  he,  hesitatingly. 

"  *  Holloa  ! '  returned  Tubbs,  disconsolately. 

"  *  Would  you  like  to  enter  into  a  business  engage 
ment  with  me  ? ' 

"  *  Of  what  sort?'  asked  Tubbs,  brightening  up. 

"  «  To  be  exhibited,'  was  the  reply.  '  You  're  the 
largest  man  living  in  the  world.  We  could  make  a 
pretty  penny  together.' 

*  *  Tubbs  was  glad  enough  to  accept  this  proposition, 
which  came  to  him  like  a  plank  to  a  drowning  man. 
Accordingly  an  agreement  was  made  that,  after  de 
ducting  expenses,  he  should  share  profits  with  the 
manager. 

"  It  proved  to  be  a  great  success.  From  all  quar 
ters  people  flocked  to  see  the  great  prodigy,  the  wonder 


THE  FAEM  AND  THE  CAMP.         161 

of  the  world,  as  he  was  described  in  huge  posters. 
Scientific  men  wrote  learned  papers  in  which  they 
strove  to  explain  his  extraordinary  height,  and,  as 
might  be  expected,  no  two  assigned  the  same  cause. 

"  At  the  end  of  six  months  Tubbs  had  five  tnou- 
sand  dollars  as  his  share  of  the  profits.  But  after 
all  he  was  far  from  happy.  He  missed  the  society  of 
his  wife  and  children,  and  shed  many  tears  over  his 
separation  from  them. 

"  At  the  end  of  six  months  his  singular  customer 
again  made  his  appearance. 

"  <  It  seems  to  me  you've  altered  some  since  I  last 
saw  you/  he  said,  with  a  smile. 

"  *  Yes,'  said  Tubbs,  dolefully. 

"  « You  don't  like  the  change,  I  judge?' 

"  'No,'  said  Tubbs.  '  It  separates  me  from  my 
wife  and  children,  and  that  makes  me  unhappy.' 

"'Would  you  like  to  be  changed  back  again?' 

"  *  Gladly,'  was  the  reply. 

"  Presto  !  the  wonderful  giant  was  changed  back 
into  the  little  tailor.  No  sooner  was  this  effected 
than  he  returned  post-haste  to  Webbington.  His 
wife  received  him  with  open  arms. 

"'  O  Thomas,'  she  exclaimed,  *  how  could  you 
leave  us  so?  On  the  day  of  your  disappearance  a 
huge  brute  of  a  man  came  here  and  pretended  to  be 
you,  but  I  soon  sent  him  away.' 

"  Thomas  wisely  said  nothing,  but  displayed  his 
five  thousand  dollars.  There  was  great  joy  in  the 
14* 


1G2 


little  dwelling.  Thomas  Tubbs  at  once  took  a 
larger  shop,  and  grew  every  year  in  wealth  and  pub 
lic  esteem.  The  only  way  in  which  he  did  not  grow 
was  in  stature ;  but  his  six  months  experience  as  a 
giant  had  cured  him  of  any  wish  of  that  sort.  The 
last  I  heard  of  him  was  his  election  to  the  legis 
lature." 


"  That's  a  bully  story,"  said  Charlie,  using  a  word 
which  he  had  heard  from  older  boys.  "I  wish  I 
was  a  great  tall  giant." 

"  What  would  you  do  if  you  were,  Charlie?" 
"  I'd  go  and  fight  the  Rebels,"  said  Charlie,  man- 
fkliy. 


XX. 

POMP'S    EDUCATION    COMMENCES. 

IN  the  season  of  leisure  from  farm  work  which 
followed,  Frank  found  considerable  time  for  study. 
The  kind  sympathy  and  ready  assistance  given  by 
Mr.  Morton,  made  his  task  a  very  agreeable  one, 
and  his  progress  for  a  time  was  as  rapid  as  if  he  had 
remained  at  school. 

He  also  assumed  the  office  of  teacher,  having 
undertaken  to  give  ..  -  little  elementary  instruction  to 
Pomp.  Here  his  task  was  beset  with  difficulties. 
Pomp  was  naturally  bright,  but  incorrigibly  idle. 
His  activity  was  all  misdirected  and  led  him  into  a 
wide  variety  of  mischief.  He  would  have  been  sent 
to  school,  but  his  mischievous  propensities  had  so  in 
fected  the  boys  sitting  near  him,  that  the  teacher  had 
been  compelled  to  request  his  removal. 

Three  times  in  the  week,  during  the  afternoon, 
Pomp  came  over  to  the  farm  for  instruction.  On 
the  first  of  these  occasions  we  will  look  in  upon  him 
and  his  teacher. 

Pomp  is  sitting  on  a  cricket  by  the  kitchen  fire. 
He  has  a  primer  open  before  him  at  the  alphabet. 
His  round  eyes  are  fixed  upon  the  page  as  long  as 


164  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

Frank  is  looking  at  him,  but  lie  requires  constant 
watching.  His  teacher  sits  near  by,  with  a  Latin 
dictionary  resting  upon  a  light  stand  before  him,  and 
a  copy  of  Virgil's  ^Eneid  in  his  hand. 

44  Well,  Pomp,  do  you  think  you  know  your 
lesson  ?  "  he  asks. 

"  Dunno,  Mass'  Frank  ;  I  reckon  so." 

"  You  may  bring  your  book  to  me,  and  I  will  try 
you." 

Pomp  rose  from  his  stool  and  sidled  up  to  Frank 
with  no  great  alacrity. 

"What's  that  letter,  Pomp?"  asked  the  young 
teacher,  pointing  out  the  initial  letter  of  the  alphabet. 

Pomp  answered  correctly. 

"  And  what  is  the  next !  " 

Pomp  shifted  from  one  foot  to  the  other,  and  stared 
vacantly  out  of  the  window,  but  said  nothing. 

< '  Don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  Pears  like  I  don't  member  him,  Mass'  Frank." 

Here  Frank  had  recourse  to  a  system  of  mnemonics 
frequently  resorted  to  by  teachers  in  their  extremity. 

"  What's  the  name  of  the  little  insect  that  stings 
people  sometimes,  Pomp?" 

"Wasp,  Mass' Frank,"  was  the  confident  reply. 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  that.     I  mean  the  bee." 

"Yes,  Mass' Frank." 

"Well,  this  is  B." 

Pomp  looked  at  it  attentively,  and  after  a  pause 
inquired,  "  Where's  him  wings,  Mass'  Frank?" 


THE  FARM  A\D  THE  CAMP.         165 

Frank  bit  his  lips  to  keep  from  laughing.  "  I 
don't  mean  that  this  is  a  bee  that  makes  honey,"  he 
explained,  "  only  it  has  the  same  name.  Now  do 
you  think  you  can  remember  how  it  is  called  ?  " 

"  Bumblebee  !  "  repeated  Pomp,  triumphantly. 

Pomp's  error  was  corrected,  and  the  lesson  pro 
ceeded. 

"  What  is  the  next  letter?"  asked  Frank,  indicat 
ing  it  with  the  point  of  his  knife-blade. 

"  X,"  answered  the  pupil,  readily. 

"  No,  Pomp,"  was  the  dismayed  reply.  "  It  is 
very  different  from  X." 

*'  Dat's  him  name  at  school,"  said  Pomp,  positively. 

"  No  Pomp,  you  are  mistaken.  That  is  X,  away 
down  there." 

"  Perhaps  him  change  his  name,"  suggested  Pomp. 

"  No.  The  letters  never  change  their  names.  I 
don't  think  you  know  your  lesson,  Pomp.  Just 
listen  to  me  while  I  tell  you  the  names  of  some  of 
the  letters,  and  try  to  remember  them." 

When  this  was  done,  Pomp  was  directed  to  sit 
down  on  the  cricket,  and  study  his  lesson  for  twenty 
minutes,  at  the  end  of  which  he  might  again  recite. 

Pomp  sat  down,  and  for  five  entire  minutes 
seemed  absorbed  in  his  book.  Then,  unfortunately, 
the  cat  walked  into  the  room,  and  soon  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  young  student.  He  sidled  from  his 
seat  so  silently  that  Frank  did  not  hear  him.  He 
was  soon  made  sensible  that  Pomp  was  engaged  in 


166  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

some  mischief  by  hearing  a  prolonged  wail  of  anguish 
from  the  cat. 

Looking  up,  he  found  that  his  promising  pupil  had 
tied  her  by  the  leg  to  a  chair,  and  under  these  cir 
cumstances  was  amusing  himself  by  pinching  her 
tail. 

"  What  are  you  doing  there,  Pomp?"  he  asked, 
quickly. 

Pomp  scuttled  back  to  his  seat,  and  appeared  to 
be  deeply  intent  upon  his  primer. 

"  Ain't  doin'  noffin',  Mass'  Frank,"  he  answered, 
innocently. 

' '  Then  how  came  the  cat  tied  to  that  chair  ?  " 

"  'Spec'  she  must  have  tied  herself." 

"  Come,  Pomp,  you  know  better  than  that.  You 
know  cats  can't  tie  themselves.  Get  up  immediately 
and  unfasten  her." 

Pomp  rose  with  alacrity,  and  undertook  to  release 
puss  from  the  thraldom  of  which  she  had  become 
very  impatient.  Perhaps  she  would  have  been  quite 
as  well  off  if  she  had  been  left  to  herself.  The  pro 
cess  of  liberation  did  not  appear  to  be  very  agreea 
ble,  judging  from  the  angry  mews  which  proceeded 
from  her.  Finally,  in  her  indignation  against  Pomp 
for  some  aggressive  act,  she  scratched  him  sharply. 

* '  You  wicked  old  debble  !  "  exclaimed  Pomp, 
wrathfully. 

He  kicked  at  the  cat ;  but  she  was  lucky  enough 
to  escape,  and  ran  out  of  the  room  as  fast  as  her  four 
legs  could  carry  her. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         167 

"  Big  ugly  debble  !  "  muttered  Pomp,  watching 
the  blood  ooze  from  his  finger. 

44  What 's  the  matter,  Pomp?" 

44  Old  cat  scratched  me." 

44  And  what  did  you  do  to  her,  Pomp?  I  am 
afraid  you  deserved  your  scratch." 

4 'Did  n't  do  noffin',  Mass'  Frank,"  said  Pomp, 
virtuously. 

44  I  don't  think  you  always  tell  the  truth,  Pomp." 

44  Can't  help  it,  Mass'  Frank,  'Spec'  I've  got  a 
little  debble  inside  of  me." 

44  What  do  you  mean,  Pomp  !  What  put  that 
idea  in  your  head  ?  " 

44Dat's  what  mammy  says.  Dat 's  what  she 
al'ays  tells  me." 

44  Then,"  said  Frank,  44  I  think  it  will  be  best  to 
whip  it  out  of  you.  Where's  my  stick?" 

44  O  no,  Mass'  Frank,"  said  Pomp,  in  alarm; 
"I'll  be  good,  for  sure." 

44  Then  sit  down  and  get  your  lesson." 

Again  Pomp  assumed  his  cricket.  Before  he  had 
time  to  devise  any  new  mischief,  Mrs.  Frost  came  to 
the  head  of  the  stairs  and  called  Frank. 

Frank  laid  aside  his  books,  and  presented  himself 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

44 1  should  like  your  help  a  few  minutes.  Can 
you  leave  your  studies?" 

44  Certainly,  mother." 

Before   going  up,  he   cautioned   Pomp   to  study 


168  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

quietly,  and  not  get  into  any  mischief,  while  he  waa 
gone.  Pomp  promised  very  readily. 

Frank  had  hardly  got  up  stairs  before  his  pupil 
rose  from  the  cricket,  and  began  to  look  attentively 
about  him.  His  first  proceeding  was  to  hide  his 
primer  carefully  in  Mrs.  Frost's  work-basket,  which 
lay  on  the  table.  Then,  looking  curiously  about 
him,  his  attention  was  drawn  to  the  old-fashioned 
clock  that  stood  in  the  corner. 

Now,  Pomp's  curiosity  had  been  strongly  excited 
by  this  clock.  It  was  not  quite  clear  to  him  how  the 
striking  part  was  effected.  Here  seemed  to  be  a 
favorable  opportunity  for  instituting  an  investigation. 
Pomp  drew  his  cricket  to  the  clock,  and  opening  it 
tried  to  reach  up  to  the  face.  But  he  was  not  yet 
high  enough.  He  tried  a  chair,  and  still  required  a 
greater  elevation.  Espying  Frank's  Latin  dictionary, 
he  pressed  that  into  the  service. 

By  and  by  Frank  and  his  mother  heard  the  clock 
striking  an  unusual  number  of  times. 

'  *  What  is  the  matter  with  the  clock  ?  "  inquired 
Mrs.  Frost. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Frank,  unsuspiciously. 

"  It  has  struck  ten  times,  and  it  is  only  four 
o'clock." 

61  I  wonder  if  Pomp  can  have  got  at  it,"  said 
Frank,  with  a  sudden  thought. 

He  ran  down  stairs  hastily. 

Pomp  heard  him  coming,   and  in  his  anxiety  to 


THE  FARM:  AND  THE  CAMP.      169 

escape  detection,  contrived  to  lose  his  balance  and 
fall  to  the  floor.  As  he  fell,  he  struck  the  table,  on 
which  a  pan  of  sour  milk  had  been  placed,  and  it 
was  overturned,  deluging  poor  Pomp  with  the  un 
savory  fluid. 

Pomp  shrieked  and  kicked  most  energetically. 
His  appearance,  as  he  picked  himself  up,  was  ludi 
crous  in  the  extreme.  His  sable  face  was  plentifully 
besprinkled  with  clotted  milk,  giving  him  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  negro  who  is  coming  out  white  in 
spots.  The  floor  was  swimming  in  milk.  Luckily 
the  dictionary  had  fallen  clear  of  it,  and  so  escaped. 

"  Is  this  the  way  you  study?"  demanded  Frank, 
as  sternly  as  his  sense  of  the  ludicrous  plight  in  which 
he  found  Pomp  would  permit. 

For  once  Pomp's  ready  wit  deserted  him.  He 
had  nothing  to  say. 

"  Go  out  and  wash  yourself." 

Pomp  came  back  rather  shamefaced,  his  face  re 
stored  to  its  original  color. 

"  Now,  where  is  your  book?" 

Pomp  looked  about  him,  but,  as  he  took  good  care 
not  to  look  where  he  knew  his  book  to  be,  of  course 
he  did  not  find  it. 

" 1  'clare,  Mass'  Frank,  it  done  lost,"  he  at  length 
asserted. 

"  How  can  it  be  lost  when  you  had  it  only  a  few 
minutes  ago  ?  " 

«'  I  dunno,"  answered  Pomp,  stolidly. 
15 


170  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

*  *  Have  you  been  out  of  the  room  ?  " 

Pomp  answered  in  the  negative. 

"  Then  it  must  be  somewhere  here." 

Frank  went  quietly  to  the  corner  of  the  room  and 
took  therefrom  a  stick. 

"  Now,  Pomp,"  he  said,  "  I  will  give  you  just 
two  minutes  to  find  the  book  in.  If  you  don't  find 
it,  I  shall  have  to  give  you  a  whipping." 

Pomp  looked  at  his  teacher  to  see  if  he  was  in 
earnest.  Seeing  that  he  was,  he  judged  it  best  to 
find  the  book. 

Looking  into  the  work-box,  he  said,  innocently, 
**  I  'dare  to  gracious,  Mass'  Frank,  if  it  hasn't 
slipped  down  yere.  Dat's  rni'ty  cur's,  dat  is." 

"  Pomp,  sit  down,"  said  Frank,  "  I  am  going  to 
talk  to  you  seriously.  What  makes  you  tell  so  many 
lies?" 

"  Dunno  any  better,"  replied  Pomp,  grinning. 

"  Yes,  you  do,  Pomp.  Does  n't  your  mother  tell 
you  not  to  lie  ?  " 

"  Lor',  Mass'  Frank,  she's  poor  ignorant  nigger. 
She  don't  know  noffinV 

"  You  mustn't  speak  so  of  your  mother.  She 
brings  you  up  as  well  as  she  knows  how.  She  has 
to  work  hard  for  you,  and  you  ought  to  love  her." 

"  So  I  do,  'cept  when  she  licks  me." 

"  If  you  behave  properly  she  won't  whip  you. 
STou  '11  grow  up  a  4  poor  ignorant  nigger '  yourself  if 
you  don't  study." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         171 

"  Shall  I  get  white,  Mass*  Frank,  if  I  study?" 
asked  Pomp,  showing  a  double  row  of  white  teeth. 

"  You  were  white  enough  just  now,"  said  Frank, 
smiling. 

"  Yah,  yah!"  returned  Pomp,  who  appreciated 
the  joke. 

"  Now,  Pomp,"  Frank  continued  seriously,  "  if 
you  will  learn  your  lesson  in  fifteen  minutes  I  will 
give  you  a  piece  of  gingerbread." 

"  I'll  do  it,  Mass'  Frank,"  said  Pomp,  promptly. 

Pomp  was  very  fond  of  gingerbread,  as  Frank 
very  well  knew.  In  the  time  specified  the  lesson 
was  got,  and  recited  satisfactorily. 

As  Pomp's  education  will  not  again  be  referred  to, 
it  may  be  said  that  when  Frank  had  discovered  how 
to  manage  him,  he  learned  quite  rapidly.  Chloe, 
who  was  herself  unable  to  read,  began  to  look  upon 
Pomp  with  a  new  feeling  of  respect  when  she  found 
that  he  could  read  stories  in  words  of  one  syllable, 
and  the  * '  lickings  "  of  which  he  complained  became 
less  frequent.  But  his  love  of  fun  still  remained, 
and  occasionally  got  him  into  trouble,  as  we  shall 
hereafter  have  occasion  to  see. 


XXI. 

THE   BATTLE    OF   FREDEKICKSBURG. 

ABOUT  the  middle  of  December  came  the  sad 
tragedy  of  Fredericksburg,  in  which  thousands  of 
our  gallant  soldiers  yielded  up  their  lives  in  a  hard, 
unequal  struggle,  which  brought  forth  nothing  but 
mortification  and  disaster. 

The  first  telegrams  which  appeared  in  the  daily 
papers  brought  anxiety  and  bodings  of  ill  to  many 
households.  The  dwellers  at  the  farm  were  not  ex 
empt.  They  had  been  apprised  by  a  recent  letter 
that  Mr.  Frost's  regiment  now  formed  a  part  of  the 
grand  army  which  lay  encamped  on  the  eastern  side 
of  the  Kappahannock.  The  probability  was  that  he 
was  engaged  in  the  battle.  Frank  realized  for  the 
first  time  to  what  peril  his  father  was  exposed,  and 
mingled  with  the  natural  feeling  which  such  a  thought 
was  likely  to  produce,  was  the  reflection  that,  but  for 
him,  his  father  would  have  been  in  safety  at  home. 

1 '  Did  I  do  right  ?  "  Frank  asked  himself  anxiously, 
the  old  doubt  recurring  once  more. 

Then,  above  the  selfish  thought  of  peril  to  him 
and  his,  rose  the  consideration  of  the  country's  need, 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         173 

and  Frank  said  to  himself,  "  I  have  done  right, — • 
whatever  happens.     I  feel  sure  of  that." 

Yet  his  anxiety  was  by  no  means  diminished,  es 
pecially  when,  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  tidings  of 
the  great  disaster  came  to  hand,  only  redeemed  by 
the  masterly  retreat  across  the  river,  in  which  a  great 
army,  without  the  loss  of  a  single  gun,  ambulance, 
or  wagon,  withdrew  from  the  scene  of  a  hopeless 
struggle,  under  the  very  eyes  of  the  enemy,  yet 
escaping  discovery. 

One  afternoon  Frank  went  to  the  post-office  a 
little  after  the  usual  time.  As  he  made  his  way 
through  a  group  at  the  door,  he  noticed  compassion 
ate  glances  directed  towards  him. 

His  heart  gave  a  sudden  bound. 

' '  Has  anything  happened  to  my  father  ? "  he 
inquired  with  pale  face.  "  Have  any  of  you  heard 
anything  ?  " 

"  He  is  wounded,  Frank,"  said  the  nearest  by 
stander. 

"  Show  it  to  me,"  said  Frank. 

In  the  evening  paper,  which  was  placed  in  his 
hands,  he  read  a  single  line,  but  of  fearful  import ; 
"  Henry  Frost,  wounded."  Whether  the  wound  was 
slight  or  serious,  no  intimation  was  given. 

Frank  heaved  a  sigh  of  comparative  relief.     His 

father  was  not  dead,  as  he  at  first  feared.     Yet,  he 

felt  that  the  suspense  would  be  a  serious  trial.     He 

did  not  know  how  to  tell  his  mother.     She  met  him 

15* 


174  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

at  the  gate.  His  serious  face  and  lagging  steps 
revealed  the  truth,  exciting  at  first  apprehensions  of 
something  even  more  serious. 

1  or  two  days  they  remained  without  news.  Then 
came  a  letter  from  the  absent  father,  which  wonder 
fully  lightened  all  their  hearts.  The  fact  that  he 
was  able  to  write  a  long  letter  with  his  own  hand, 
showed  plainly  that  his  wound  must  be  a  trifling  one. 
The  letter  ran  thus  :  — 

DEAR  MARY  : — 

I  fear  that  the  report  of  my  wound  will  reach 
you  before  this  letter  comes  to  assure  you  that  it  is  a 
mere  scratch,  and  scarcely  worth  a  thought.  I  can 
not  for  an  instant  think  of  it,  when  I  consider  how 
many  of  our  poor  fellows  have  been  mowed  down  by 
instant  death,  or  are  now  lying  with  ghastly  wounds 
on  pallets  in  the  hospital.  We  have  been  through  a 
fearful  trial,  and  the  worst  thought  is  that  our  losses 
are  not  compensated  by  a  single  advantage. 

Before  giving  you  an  account  of  it  from  the 
point  of  view  of  a  private  soldier,  let  me  set  your 
mind  at  rest  by  saying  that  my  injury  is  only  a  slight 
flesh  wound  in  the  arm,  which  will  necessitate  my 
carrying  it  in  a  sling  for  a  few  days  ;  that  is  all. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  Thursday,  the  10th 
inst.,  the  first  act  in  the  great  drama  commenced 
with  laying  the  pontoon  bridges  over  which  our  men 
were  to  make  their  way  into  the  Rebel  city.  My  own 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         175 

division  was  to  cross  directly  opposite  the  city.  All 
honor  to  the  brave  men  who  volunteered  to  lay  the 
bridges.  It  was  a  trying  and  perilous  duty.  On 
the  other  side,  in  rifle-pits  and  houses  at  the  brink  of 
the  river,  were  posted  the  enemy's  sharpshooters,  and 
these  at  a  given  signal  opened  fire  upon  our  poor  fel 
lows  who  were  necessarily  unprotected.  The  firing 
was  so  severe  and  deadly,  and  impossible  to  escape 
from,  that  for  the  time  we  were  obliged  to  desist. 
Before  anything  could  be  effected  it  became  clear 
that  the  sharpshooters  must  be  dislodged. 

Then  opened  the  second  scene. 

A  deluge  of  shot  and  shell  from  our  side  of  the 
river  rained  upon  the  city,  setting  some  buildings  on 
fire,  and  severely  damaging  others.  It  was  a  most 
exciting  spectacle  to  us  who  watched  from  the  bluff, 
knowing  that  erelong  we  must  make  the  perilous 
passage,  and  confront  the  foe,  the  mysterious  silence 
of  whose  batteries  inspired  alarm,  as  indicating  a 
consciousness  of  power. 

The  time  of  our  trial  came  at  length. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  afternoon  General 
Howard's  division,  to  which  I  belong,  crossed  the 
pontoon  bridge  whose  building  had  cost  us  more 
than  one  gallant  soldier.  The  distance  was  short, 
for  the  Rappahannock  at  this  point  is  not  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide.  In  a  few  minutes  we  were 
marching  through  the  streets  of  Fredericksburg. 
We  gained  possession  of  the  lower  streets,  but  not 


176  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

without  some  street  fighting,  in  which  our  brigade 
lost  about  one  hundred  in  killed  and  wounded. 

For  the  first  time  I  witnessed  violent  death. 
The  man  marching  by  my  side  suddenly  reeled,  and 
pressing  his  hand  to  his  breast  fell  forward.  Only 
a  moment  before  he  had  spoken  to  me,  saying,  "  I 
think  we  are  goin^  to  have  hot  work."  Now  he 

o          o 

was  dead,  shot  through  the  heart.  I  turned  sick 
with  horror,  but  there  was  no  time  to  pause.  We 
must  march  on,  not  knowing  that  our  turn  might  not 
come  next.  Each  of  us  felt  that  he  bore  his  life  in 
his  hand. 

But  this  was  soon  over,  and  orders  came  that 
we  should  bivouac  for  the  night.  You  will  not 
wonder  that  I  lay  awake  nearly  the  whole  night. 
A  night  attack  was  possible,  and  the  confusion  and 
darkness  would  have  made  it  fearful.  As  I  lay 
awake  I  could  not  help  thinking  how  anxious  you 
would  feel  if  you  had  known  where  I  was. 

So  closed  the  first  day. 

The  next  dawned  warm  and  pleasant.  In  the 
quiet  of  the  morning  it  seemed  hard  to  believe  that 
we  were  on  the  eve  of  a  bloody  struggle.  Discipline 
was  not  very  strictly  maintained.  Some  of  our 
number  left  the  ranks  and  ransacked  the  houses, 
more  from  curiosity  than  the  desire  to  pillage. 

I  went  down  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  took  a 
look  at  the  bridge  which  it  had  cost  us  so  much 
trouble  to  throw  across.  It  bv>re  frequent  marks  of 
of  the  day  previous. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         177 

At  one  place  I  came  across  an  old  negro,  whose 
white  head  and  wrinkled  face  indicated  an  advanced 
age.  Clinging  to  him  were  two  children,  of  perhaps 
four  and  six  years  of  age,  who  had  been  crying. 

"  Don't  cry,  honey,"  I  heard  him  say,  soothingly, 
wiping  the  tears  from  the  cheeks  of  the  youngest  with 
a  coarse  cotton  handkerchief. 

"  I  want  mamma,"  said  the  child,  piteously. 

A  sad  expression  came  over  the  old  black's  face. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  I  asked,  advancing  to 
wards  him. 

"  She  is  crying  for  her  mother,"  he  said. 

"  Is  she  dead?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  she  'd  been  ailing  for  a  long  time,  and 
the  guns  of  yesterday  hastened  her  death." 

"  Where  did  you  live?" 

"  In  that  house  yonder,  sir." 

"  Did  n't  you  feel  afraid  when  we  fired  on  the 
town?" 

* «  We  were  all  in  the  cellar,  sir.  One  shot  struck 
the  house,  but  did  not  injure  it  much." 

61  You  use  very  good  language,"  I  could  not  help 
saying. 

"  Yes,  sir;  I  have  had  more  advantages  than 
most  of — of  my  class."  These  last  words  he  spoke 
rather  bitterly.  "  When  I  was  a  young  man  my 
master  amused  himself  with  teaching  me ;  but  he 
found  I  learned  so  fast  that  he  stopped  short.  But 
I  carried  it  on  by  myself." 


178  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

"  Did  n't  you  find  that  difficult?" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  my  will  was  strong.  I  managed 
to  get  books,  now  one  way,  now  another.  I  ha\e 
read  considerable,  sir." 

This  he  said  with  some  pride. 

"  Have  you  ever  read  Shakespeare?  " 

"In  part,  sir;  but  I  never  could  get  hold  of 
Hamlet.  I  have  always  wanted  to  read  that  play." 

I  drew  him  out,  and  was  astonished  at  the  extent 
of   his    information,   and   the   intelligent  judgments 
which  he  expressed. 

II  I    wonder    that,    with    your    acquirements,  you 
should  have  been  content  to   remain  in  a   state   of 
slavery." 

"Content!"  he  repeated,  bitterly.  "Do  you 
think  I  have  been  content?  No,  sir.  Twice  I  at 
tempted  to  escape.  Each  time  I  was  caught,  drag 
ged  back,  and  cruelly  whipped.  Then  I  was  sold  to 
the  father  of  these  little  ones.  He  treated  me  so 
well,  and  I  was  getting  so  old,  that  I  gave  up  the 
idea  of  running  away." 

"And  where  is  he  now." 

"  He  became  a  colonel  in  the  confederate  service, 
and  was  killed  at  Antietam.  Yesterday  my  mistress 
died,  as  I  have  told  you." 

"  And  are  you  left  in  sole  charge  of  these  little 
children?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Have  they  no  relatives  living?" 


THE    FARM   ^ND    THE    CAMP.  17D 

"  Their  uncle  lives  in  Kentucky.  I  shall  try  to 
carry  them  there." 

"  But  you  will  find  it  hard  work.  You  have  only 
to  cross  the  river,  and  in  our  lines  you  will  be  no 
longer  a  slave." 

"  I  know  it,  sir.  Three  of  my  children  have  got 
their  freedom,  thank  God,  in  that  way.  But  I  can't 
leave  these  children." 

I  looked  down  at  them.  They  were  beautiful  lit 
tle  children.  The  youngest  was  a  girl,  with  small 
features,  dark  hair,  and  black  eyes.  The  boy,  of 
six,  \vas  pale  and  composed,  and  uttered  no  mur 
mur.  Both  clung  confidently  to  the  old  negro. 

I  could  not  help  admiring  the  old  man,  who  could 
resist  the  prospect  of  freedom,  though  he  had  coveted 
it  all  his  life,  in  order  to  remain  loyal  to  his  trust. 
I  felt  desirous  of  drawing  him  out  on  the  subject  of 
the  war. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  this  war  ?  "  I  asked. 

He  lifted  up  his  hand,  and  in  a  tone  of  solemnity, 
said,  "  I  think  it  is  the  cloud  by  day,  and  the  pillar 
of  fire  by  night,  that 's  going  to  draw  us  out  of  our 
bondage  into  the  Promised  Land." 

I  was  struck  by  his  answer. 

"  Do  many  of  you  —  I  mean  of  those  who  have 
not  enjoyed  your  advantages  of  education  —  think 
so?" 

"  Yes,  sir;  we  think  it  is  the  Lord's  doings,  and 
it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes.  It 's  a  time  of  trial  and 


180  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

of  tribulation  ;  but  it  is  n't  a  going  to  last.  The  chil 
dren  of  Israel  were  forty  years  in  the  wilderness,  and 
so  it  may  be  with  us.  The  day  of  deliverance  will 
come." 

At  this  moment  the  little  girl  began  again  to  cry, 
and  he  addressed  himself  to  soothe  her. 

This  was  not  the  only  group  I  encountered.  Some 
women  had  come  down  to  the  river  with  children  half 
bereft  of  their  senses,  —  some  apparently  supposing 
that  we  should  rob  or  murder  them.  The  Rebel 
leaders  and  newspapers  have  so  persistently  reitera 
ted  these  assertions,  that  they  have  come  to  believe 
them. 

The  third  day  was  unusually  lovely,  but  our  hearts 
were  too  anxious  to  admit  of  our  enjoying  it.  The 
Rebels  were  entrenched  on  heights  behind  the  town. 
It  was  necessary  that  these  should  be  taken,  and 
about  noon  the  movement  commenced.  Our  forces 
inarched  steadily  across  the  intervening  plain.  The 
Rebels  reserved  their  fire  till  we  were  half-way  across, 
and  then  from  all  sides  burst  forth  the  deadly  fire. 
We  were  completely  at  their  mercy.  Twenty  men 
in  my  own  company  fell  dead  or  wounded,  among 
them  the  captain  and  first  lieutenant.  Of  what  fol 
lows  I  can  give  you  little  idea.  I  gave  myself  up 
for  lost.  A  desperate  impulse  enabled  me  to  march 
on  to  what  seemed  certain  destruction.  All  at  once 
I  felt  a  sensation  of  numbness  in  my  left  arm,  and 
looking  down  I  saw  that  the  blood  was  trickling  from 
it. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         181 

But  I  had  little  time  to  think  f.f  myself.  Hearing 
a  smothered  groan,  I  looked  round,  and  saw  Frank 
Glover,  pale  and  reeling. 

"  I'm  shot  in  the  leg,"  he  said.  "  Don't  leave 
me  here.  Help  me  along,  and  I  will  try  to  keep  up 
with  you." 

The  poor  lad  leaned  upon  me,  and  we  staggered 
forward.  But  not  for  long.  A  stone  wall  stared  us 
in  the  face.  Here  Rebel  sharpshooters  had  been  sta 
tioned,  and  they  opened  a  galling  fire  upon  us.  We 
returned  it,  but  what  could  we  do?  We  were  com 
pelled  to  retire,  and  did  so  in  good  order,  but  unfor 
tunately  not  until  the  sharpshooters  had  picked  off 
some  of  our  best  men. 

Among  the  victims  was  the  poor  lad  whom  I 
assisted.  A  second  bullet  struck  him  in  the  heart. 
He  uttered  just  one  word,  4t  mother,"  and  fell.  Poor 
boy,  and  poor  mother !  He  seemed  to  have  a  pre 
monition  of  his  approaching  death,  and  requested  me 
the  day  previous  to  take  charge  of  his  effects,  and 
Bend  them  with  his  love  and  a  lock  of  his  hair  to  his 
mother  if  anything  should  befall  him.  This  request 
I  shall  at  once  comply  with.  I  have  succeeded  in 
getting  the  poor  fellow's  body  brought  to  camp, 
where  it  will  be  decently  buried,  and  have  cut  from 
his  head  two  brown  locks,  one  for  his  mother,  and 
one  for  myself. 

At  last  we  got  back  with  ranks  fearfully  diminished. 
Many  old  familiar  fa  ,es  were  gone, — the  faces  of 

16 


182  THANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OK, 

those  now  lying  stiff  and  stark  in  death.  More  were 
groaning  with  anguish  in  the  crowded  hospital.  My 
own  wound  was  too  trifling  to  require  much  atten 
tion.  I  shall  have  to  wear  a  sling  for  a  few  days 
perhaps. 

There  is  little  more  to  tell.  Until  Tuesday  even 
ing  we  maintained  our  position  in  daily  expectation 
of  an  attack.  But  none  was  made.  This  was  for 
tunate  for  us.  I  cannot  understand  what  withheld 
the  enemy  from  an  assault. 

On  Tuesday  suddenly  came  the  order  to  recross 
the  river.  It  was  a  stormy  and  dreary  night,  and  so 
of  course  favorable  to  our  purpose.  The  manoeuvre 
was  executed  in  silence,  and  \vith  commendable  ex 
pedition.  The  Rebels  appeared  to  have  no  suspicion 
of  General  Burnside's  intentions.  The  measured 
beat  of  our  double  quick  was  drowned  by  the  fury  of 
the  storm,  and  with  minds  relieved,  though  bodies 
drenched,  we  once  more  found  ourselves  with  the 
river  between  us  and  our  foes.  Nothing  was  left 
behind. 

Here  we  are  again,  but  not  all  of  us.  Many  a 
brave  soldier  has  breathed  his  last,  and  lies  under  the 
sod.  "  God's  ways  are  dark,  but  soon  or  late  they 
touch  the  shining  hills  of  day."  So  sings  our  own 
Whittier,  and  so  I  believe,  in  spite  of  the  sorrowful 
disaster  which  we  have  met  with.  It  is  all  for  the 
best  if  we  could  but  see  it. 

Our  heavy  losses  of  officers  have  rendered  some 


THE   FARM  AND   THE   CAMP. 


new  appointments  necessary.  Our  second  lieutenant 
has  been  made  captain.  The  orderly  sergeant  and 
second  sergeants  are  now  our  lieutenants,  and  the 
line  of  promotion  has  even  reached  me.  I  am  a 
corporal. 

I  have  been  drawn  into  writing  a  very  long  letter, 
and  I  must  now  close,  with  the  promise  of  writing 
again  very  soon.  After  I  have  concluded,  I  must 
write  to  poor  Frank  Glover's  mother.  May  God 
comfort  her,  for  she  has  lost  a  boy  of  whom  any 
mother  might  feel  proud. 

With  love  to  the  children,  I  remain,  as  ever,  your 
affectionate  husband. 

HENRY  FROST. 

'*  How  terrible  it  must  have  been,"  said  Mrs. 
Frost,  with  a  shudder,  as  she  folded  up  the  letter 
and  laid  it  down.  "  \Ve  ought  indeed  to  feel  thank 
ful  that  your  father's  life  was  spared." 

"  If  I  were  three  years  older,  I  migjt  have  been 
in  the  battle,"  thought  Frank. 


xxn, 

FRANK  BROACHES  A  NEW  PLAN. 

FOR  some  time  Frank  had  been  revolving  'in  his 
mind  the  feasibility  of  a  scheme  which  he  hoped  to 
be  able  to  carry  into  execution.  It  was  no  less  than 
this,  —  to  form  a  military  company  among  the  boys, 
which  should  be  organized  and  drilled  in  all  respects 
like  those  composed  of  older  persons.  He  did  not 
feel  like  taking  any  steps  in  the  matter  till  he  had 
consulted  with  some  one  in  whose  judgment  he  had 
confidence. 

One  evening  he  mentioned  his  plan  to  Mr.  Morton. 

<;  It  is  a  capital  idea,  Frank,"  said  the  young  man, 
with  warm  approval.  "  If  I  can  be  of  any  service 
to  you  in  this  matter,  it  will  afford  me  much  plea 
sure." 

"  There  is  one  difficulty,"  suggested  Frank. 
"  None  of  us  boys  knows  anything  about  military 
tactics,  and  we  shall  need  instruction  to  begin  with ; 
but  where  we  are  to  find  a  teacher  I  am  sure  I  can't 
tell." 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  have  to  look  far,"  said 
Mr.  Morton,  with  a  smile. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        185 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  the  manual?"  asked 
Frank,  eagerly. 

"  I  believe  so.  You  see  you  have  not  yet  got  to 
the  end  of  my  accomplishments.  I  shall  be  happy 
to  act  as  your  drill-master  until  some  one  among 
your  number  is  competent  to  take  my  place.  I  can 
previously  give  you  some  private  lessons,  if  you 
desire  it." 

< «  There  's  nothing  I  should  like  better,  Mr.  Mor 
ton,"  said  Frank,  joyfully. 

"  Have  you  got  a  musket  in  the  house,  then?  We 
shall  get  along  better  with  one." 

"  There's  one  in  the  attic." 

"  Very  well;  if  you  will  get  it,  we  can  make  a 
beginning  now." 

Frank  went  in  search  of  the  musket ;  but  in  his 
haste  tumbled  down  the  attic  stairs,  losing  his  grasp 
of  the  musket,  which  fell  down  with  a  clatter. 

Mrs.  Frost,  opening  the  door  of  her  bedroom  in 
alarm,  saw  Frank  on  his  back  with  the  musket  lying 
across  his  chest. 

"  What's  the  matter?"  she  asked,  not  a  little 
startled. 

Frank  got  up  rubbing  himself  and  looking  rather 
foolish. 

"Nothing,  mother;  only  I  was  in  a  little  too 
much  of  a  hurry." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  musket, 
Frank?" 

16* 


186  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

'*  Mr.  Morton  is  going  to  teach  me  the  manual, 
that  is  all,  mother." 

"  I  suppose  the  first  position  is  horizontal,"  said 
his  mother,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  don't  like  that  position  very  well,"  returned 
Frank,  with  a  laugh.  "  I  prefer  the  perpendicular." 

Under  his  friend's  instructions,  Frank  progressed 
rapidly.  At  the  end  of  the  third  lesson,  Mr.  Morton 
said,  "  You  are  nearly  as  competent  to  give  instruc 
tions  now  as  I  am.  There  are  some  things,  however, 
that  cannot  be  learned  alone.  You  had  better  take 
measures  to  form  your  company." 

Frank  called  upon  Mr.  Kathburn,  the  Principal  of 
the  Academy,  and  after  communicating  his  plan, 
which  met  with  the  teacher's  full  approval,  arranged 
to  have  notice  given  of  a  meeting  of  the  boys  im 
mediately  after  the  afternoon  session. 

On  Thursday  afternoon  when  the  last  class  had 
recited,  previous  to  ringing  the  bell,  which  was  a 
signal  that  school  was  over,  Mr.  Kathburn  gave  this 
brief  notice. 

"  I  am  requested  to  ask  the  boys  present  to  remain 
in  their  seats,  to  listen  to  a  proposition  that  has  my 
full  approval,  and  in  which  I  think  they  will  all  feel 
interested." 

Looks  of  curiosity  were  interchanged  among  the 
boys,  and  every  one  thought,  "What's  coming 
now?" 

At  this  moment  a  modest  knock  was  heard,  and 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         187 

Mr.  Eathburn,  going  to  the  door,  admitted  Frank. 
He  quietly  slipped  into  the  nearest  seat. 

44  Your  late  school-fellow,  Frank  Frost,"  pro 
ceeded  Mi'.  Eathburn,  "has  the  merit  of  orignating 
the  plan  to  which  I  have  referred,  and  he  is  no  doubt 
prepared  to  unfold  it  to  you." 

Mr.  Eathburn  put  on  his  hat  and  coat,  and  left  the 
schoolroom.  After  his  departure,  Frank  rose  and 
spoke  modestly,  thus  :  — 

"  Boys,  I  have  been  th:nkmg  for  some  time  past 
that  we  were  not  doing  all  that  we  ought  in  this 
crisis,  which  puts  in  such  danger  the  welfare  of  our 
country.  If  anything,  we  boys  ought  to  feel  more 
deeply  interested  than  our  elders,  for  while  they  will 
soon  pass  off  the  stage  we  have  not  yet  reached  even 
the  threshold  of  manhood.  You  will  ask  me  what 
we  can  do.  Let  me  remind  you  that  when  tLs  war 
broke  out,  the  great  want  was,  not  of  volunteers, 
but  of  men  trained  to  military  exercises.  Our  regi 
ments  were  at  first  composed  wholly  of  raw  recruits. 
In  Europe,  military  instruction  is  given  as  a  matter  of 
course  ;  and  in  Germany,  and  perhaps  other  countries, 
young  men  are  obliged  to  serve  for  a  time  in  the 
army. 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  profit  by  the  lessons  of  ex 
perience.  However  the  present  war  may  turn  out. 
we  cannot  be  certain  that  other  wars  will  not  at  son** 
time  break  out.  By  that  time  we  shall  have  grown 
to  manhood,  and  the  duty  of  defending  our  country 


188  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

in  arms  will  devolve  upon  us.  Should  that  time 
come,  let  it  not  find  us  unprepared.  I  propose  that 
we  organize  a  military  company  among  the  boys, 
and  meet  for  drill  at  such  times  as  we  may  hereafter 
agree  upon.  I  hope  that  any  who  feel  interested  in 
the  matter  will  express  their  opinions  freely." 

Frank  sat  down,  and  a  number  of  the  boys  testi 
fied  their  approbation  by  stamping  with  their  feet. 

John  Haynes  rose  with  a  sneer  upon  his  face. 

"  I  would  humbly  inquire,  Mr.  Chairman,  for  you 
appear  to  have  assumed  that  position,  whether  you 
intend  to  favor  us  with  your  valuable  services  as 
drill-master." 

Frank  rose  with  a  flushed  face. 

"  I  am  glad  to  be  reminded  of  one  thing,  which  I 
had  forgotten,"  he  said.  "  As  this  is  a  meeting  for 
the  transaction  of  business,  it  is  proper  that  it  should 
be  regularly  organized.  Will  some  one  nominate  a 
chairman  ?  " 

"  Frank  Frost !  "  exclaimed  half  a  dozen  voices. 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  nomination,"  said  Frank, 
"  but  as  I  have  something  further  to  communicate  to 
the  meeting,  it  will  be  better  to  select  some  one 
else." 

"  I  nominate  Charles  Reynolds,"  said  one  voice. 

"  Second  the  motion,"  said  another. 

"  Those  who  are  in  favor  of  Charles  Reynolds,  as 
Chairman  of  this  meeting,  will  please  signify  it  in  the 
usual  manner,"  said  Frank. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         189 

Charles  Reynolds  being  declared  duly  elected, 
advanced  to  the  teacher's  chair. 

**  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Frank,  I  will  now  answer 
the  question,  just  put  to  me.  I  do  not  propose  to 
offer  my  services  as  drill-master,  but  I  am  authorized 
to  say  that  a  gentleman  whom  you  have  all  seen, 
Mr.  Henry  Morton,  is  willing  to  give  instruction  till 
you  are  sufficiently  advanced  to  get  along  without  it." 

John  Haynes,  who  felt  disappointed  at  not  having 
been  called  upon  to  preside  over  the  meeting,  de 
termined  to  make  as  much  trouble  as  possible. 

44  How  are  we  to  know  that  this  Morton  is  quali 
fied  to  give  instruction?"  he  asked,  looking  round  at 
the  boys. 

44  The  gentleman  is  out  of  order.  He  will  please 
address  his  remarks  to  the  Chair,  and  not  to  the 
audience,"  said  the  presiding  officer. 

44  I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  John,  mock 
ingly.  44  I  forgot  how  tenacious  some  people  are  of 
their  brief  authority." 

44  Order  !  order  !  "  called  half  a  dozen  voices. 

44  The  gentleman  will  come  to  order,"  said  the 
Chairman,  firmly ;  *4  and  make  way  for  others  unless 
he  can  treat  the  Chair  with  proper  respect." 

4<  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Frank,  rising,  "I  will 
mention,  for  the  general  information,  that  Mr.  Mor 
ton  has  acted  as  an  officer  of  militia,  and  that  I  con 
sider  his  offer  a  kind  one,  since  it  will  take  up  con 
siderable  of  his  time  and  put  him  to  some  trouble." 


190  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;   OR, 

"  I  move  that  Mr.  Morton's  offer  be  accepted 
with  thanks,"  said  Henry  Tufts. 

The  motion  was  seconded  by  Tom  Wheeler,  and 
carried  unanimously,  with  the  exception  of  one  vote. 
John  Haynes  sat  sullenly  in  his  seat  and  took  no 
part  in  it. 

"  Who  shall  belong  to  the  company?  "  asked  the 
Chairman.  "  Shall  a  fixed  age  be  required?" 

"I  move  that  the  age  be  fixed  at  eleven,"  said 
Robert  Ingalls. 

This  was  objected  to  as  too  young,  and  twelve 
was  finally  fixed  upon. 

John  Haynes  moved  not  to  admit  any  one  who  did 
not  attend  the  Academy.  Of  course  this  would  ex 
clude  Frank,  and  his  motion  was  not  seconded. 

It  was  finally  decided  to  admit  any  above  the  age 
of  twelve  who  desired  it ;  but  the  boys  reserved  to 
themselves  the  right  of  rejecting  any  who  should 
conduct  in  a  manner  to  bring  disgrace  upon  them. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Frank,  **  in  order  to  get 
under  way  as  soon  as  possible,  I  have  written  down 
an  agreement  to  which  those  who  wish  to  join  our 
proposed  company  can  sign  their  names.  If  any 
body  can  think  of  anything  better,  I  shall  be  glad  to 
have  it  adopted  instead  of  this." 

He  handed  a  sheet  of  paper  to  the  Chairman,  who 
read  from  it  the  following  form  of  agreement : 
"We,  the  subscribers,  agree  to  form  a  boys'  vol- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        191 

unteer  company,  and  to  conform  to  the  regulations 
which  may  hereafter  be  made  for  its  government." 

"  If  there  is  no  objection  we  will  adopt  this  form, 
and  subscribe  our  names,"  said  die  Chairman. 

The  motion  for  adoption  being  carried,  the  boys 
came  up  one  by  one,  and  signed  their  names. 

John  Haynes  would  have  held  back,  but  for  the 
thought  that  he  might  be  elected  an  officer  of  the 
new  company. 

"  Is  there  any  further  business  to  come  before  the 
meeting  ?  "  inquired  the  presiding  officer. 

' (  What  are  we  going  to  do  for  guns  ? "  asked 
Robert  Ingalls.  "  We  can't  get  along  without 
them." 

'  *  The  boys  at  Webbington  had  a  company  three 
or  four  years  ago, "said  Joe  Barry,  "  and  they  used 
wooden  guns." 

"  Wooden  guns  1"  exclaimed  Wilbur  Summerfield, 
disdainfully.  "  You  won't  catch  me  training  round 
town  with  a  wooden  gun." 

"  I  would  remind  the  last  three  gentlemen  that 
their  remarks  should  be  addressed  to  the  Chair,"  said 
the  presiding  officer.  "  Of  course,  I  don't  care  any 
thing  about  it,  but  I  think  you  would  all  prefer  to 
have  the  meeting  conducted  properly." 

"  That 's  so  !  "  exclaimed  several  boys. 

"  Then,"  said  the  Chairman,"  I  shall  call  to  order 
any  boy  who  addresses  the  meeting  except  through 


192  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Frank,  rising,  "  as  to  the 
wooden  guns  I  quite  agree  with  the  last  speaker.  It 
would  seem  too  much  like  boy's  play,  and  we  are  too 
much  in  earnest  for  that.  I  have  thought  of  an 
arrangement  which  can  be  made  if  the  Selectmen  will 
give  their  consent.  Ten  or  fifteen  years  ago,  longer 
than  most  of  us  can  remember,  as  my  father  has  told 
me,  there  was  a  militia  company  in  Rossville,  whose 
arms  were  supplied  and  owned  by  the  town.  When 
the  company  was  disbanded  the  muskets  went  back 
to  the  town,  and  I  believe  they  are  now  kept  in  the 
basement  of  the  Town  Hall.  I  presume  that  we  can 
have  the  use  of  them  on  application.  I  move  that  a 
committee  be  appointed  to  lay  the  matter  before  the 
Selectmen,  and  ask  their  permission." 

His  motion  was  agreed  to. 

* '  I  will  appoint  John  Haynes  to  serve  on  that  com 
mittee,"  said  the  Chairman,  after  a  pause. 

This  was  a  politic  appointment,  as  Squire  Haynes 
was  one  of  the  Selectmen,  and  would  be  gratified  at 
the  compliment  paid  to  his  son. 

"  I  accept  the  duty,"  said  John,  rising,  and  speak 
ing  in  a  tone  of  importance. 

"  Is  there  any  other  business  to  come  before  the 
meeting  ?  " 

"I  should  like  to  inquire,  Mr.  Chairman,  when 
our  first  meeting  will  take  place,  and  where  is  it  to 
be?"  asked  Herbert  Metcalf. 

"  I  will  appoint  as  a  committee  to  make  the  neces- 


FRANK,  THE  YOUNG  FARMER. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         193 

sary  arrangements,  Frank  Frost,  Tom  Wheeler,  and 
Robert  Ingalls.  Due  notice  will  be  given  in  school 
of  the  time  and  place  selected,  and  a  written  notice 
will  also  be  posted  up  in  the  Post-Office." 

"  Would  it  not  be  well,  Mr.  Chairman,"  suggested 
Frank,  "  to  circulate  an  invitation  to  other  boys  not 
present  to-day  to  join  the  company  ?  The  larger 
our  numbers  the  more  interest  will  be  felt.  I  can 
think  of  quite  a  number  who  would  be  valuable 
members.  —  There  are  Dick  Bumstead,  and  William 
Chamberlain,  and  many  others." 

At  the  sound  of  Dick  Bumstead's  name  John 
Haynes  looked  askance  at  Frank  ;  but  for  the  moment 
the  thought  of  Dick's  agency  in  the  affair  of  the  pig 
pen  had  escaped  his  recollection,  and  he  looked  quite 
unconscious  of  any  indirect  reference  to  it. 

* «  Will  you  make  a  motion  to  that  effect  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  necessary." 

*  *  Is  the  motion  seconded  ?  " 

"  Second  it,"  said  Moses  Rogers. 

66  I  will  appoint  Wilbur  Summerfield  and  Moses 
Rogers  on  that  committee,"  said  the  Chairman. 

"  I  move  that  the  meeting  adjourn  ipse  dixit"  said 
Sam  Davis,  bringing  out  the  latter  phrase  with  con 
siderable  emphasis. 

A  roar  of  laughter  followed,  which  shook  the 
gchoolhouse  to  the  very  rafters,  and  then  a  deafen 
ing  clamor  of  applause.  The  proposer  sat  down  in 
confusion. 

17 


194  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  on, 

* '  What  are  you  fellows  laughing  at  ?  "  he  burst 
forth  indignantly. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Henry  Tufts,  struggling 
with  his  laughter,  "  I  second  the  gentleman's  mo 
tion,  all  except  the  Latin." 

The  motion  was  carried  in  spite  of  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  worded,  and  the  boys  formed  little 
groups,  and  began  eagerly  to  discuss  the  plan  which 
had  been  proposed.  Frank  had  reason  to  feel  satis 
fied  with  the  success  of  his  suggestion.  Several  of 
the  boys  came  up  to  him,  and  expressed  their  plea 
sure  that  he  had  brought  the  matter  before  them. 

"  I  say,  Frank, "said Robert  Ingalls,  "  we  '11  have 
a  bully  company." 

"Yes,"  said  Wilbur  Summerfield,  "if  John 
Haynes  belongs  to  it.  He 's  a  bully,  and  no  mistake." 

* '  What 's  that  you  are  saying  about  me  ?  "  blus 
tered  John  Haynes,  who  caught  a  little  of  what  wa* 
said. 

"  Listeners  never  hear  anything  good  of  them 
selves,"  answered  Wilbur. 

"  Say  that  again,  Wilbur  Summerfield,"  said 
John,  menacingly. 

"  Certainly,  if  it  will  do  you  any  good.  I  said 
that  you  were  a  bully,  John  Haynes  ;  and  there's  not 
a  boy  here  that  doesn't  know  it  to  be  true." 

"  Take  care  ! "  said  John,  turning  white  with  pas 
sion. 

"While   I'm  about  it,  there's  something    more 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         195 

I  want  to  say,"  continued  Wilbur,  undauntedly. 
"  Yesterday  you  knocked  my  little  brother  off  his 
sled  and  sent  him  home  crying.  If  you  do  it  again 
you  will  have  somebody  else  to  deal  with." 

John  trembled  with  anger.  It  would  have  done 
him  good  to  "  pitch  into"  Wilbur,  but  the  latter 
looked  him  in  the  face  so  calmly  and  resolutely  that 
discretion  seemed  to  him  the  better  part  of  valor,  and 
with  an  oath  he  turned  away. 

"  I  don't  know  what's  got  into  John  Haynes,"  said 
Wilbur.  "  I  never  liked  him,  but  now  he  seems  to 
be  getting  worse  and  worse  every  day." 


XXIH. 

POMP   TAKES   MRS.    PAYSON   PRISONER. 

OLD  Mrs.  Pay  son,  who  arrived  in  Rossville  at  the 
game  time  with  Henry  Morton,  had  been  invited  by 
her  daughter,  "  Cynthy  Ann,"  to  pass  the  winter, 
and  had  acquiesced  without  making  any  very  stren 
uous  objections.  Her  "  bunnit,"  which  she  had 
looked  upon  as  "  sp'ilt,"  had  been  so  far  restored  by 
a  skilful  milliner  that  she  was  able  to  wear  it  for  best. 
As  this  restoration  cost  but  one  dollar  and  a  half  out 
of  the  five  which  had  been  given  her  by  young 
Morton,  she  felt  very  well  satisfied  with  the  way 
matters  had  turned  out.  This  did  not,  however,  by 
any  means  diminish  her  rancor  against  Pomp,  who 
had  been  the  mischievous  cause  of  the  calamity. 

"  Ef  I  could  only  get  hold  on  him,"  Mrs.  Payson 
had  remarked  on  several  occasions  to  Cynthy  Ann, 
"  I  M  shake  the  mischief  out  of  him  ef  I  died  for  *t 
the  very  next  minute." 

Mrs.  Payson  was  destined  to  meet  with  a  second 
calamity,  wThich  increased,  if  possible,  her  antipathy 
to  the  "  young  imp." 

Being  of  a  social  disposition,  she  was  quite  in  the 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         197 

habit  of  dropping  in  to  tea  at  different  houses  in  the 
village.  Having  formerly  lived  in  Rossville,  she 
was  acquainted  with  nearly  all  the  towns  people,  and 
went  the  rounds  about  once  in  two  weeks. 

One  afternoon  she  put  her  knitting  into  a  black 
workbag,  which  she  was  accustomed  to  carry  on  her 
arm,  and  arraying  herself  in  a  green  cloak  and  hood, 
which  had  served  her  for  fifteen  years,  she  set  out  to 
call  on  Mrs.  Thompson. 

Now,  the  nearest  route  to  the  place  of  her  destina 
tion  lay  across  a  five-acre  lot.  The  snow  lay  deep 
upon  the  ground,  but  the  outer  surface  had  become 
so  hard  as,  without  difficulty ,  to  bear  a  person  of 
ordinary  weight. 

When  Mrs.  Payson  came  up  to  the  bars,  she  said 
to  herself,  "T  ain't  so  fur  to  go  across  lots.  I 
guess  I  '11  ventur'." 

She  let  down  a  bar,  and  passing  through,  went 
on  her  way  complacently.  But,  alas,  for  the  old 
lady's  peace  of  mind  !  She  was  destined  to  come  to 
very  deep  grief. 

That  very  afternoon  Pomp  had  come  over  to  play 
with  Sam  Thompson,  and  the  two,  after  devising 
various  projects  of  amusement,  had  determined  to 
make  a  cave  in  the  snow.  They  selected  a  part  of  the 
field  where  it  had  drifted  to  the  depth  of  some  four 
or  five  feet.  Beginning  at  a  little  distance,  they  bur 
rowed  their  way  into  the  heart  of  the  snow,  and  ex 
cavated  a  place  about  four  feet  square  by  four  deep, 
17* 


198  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

leaving  the  upper  crust  intact,  of  course  without  its 
ordinary  strength. 

The  two  boys  had  completed  their  task,  and  were 
sitting  down  in  their  subterranean  abode,  when  the 
roof  suddenly  gave  way  and  a  visitor  entered  in  the 
most  unceremonious  manner. 

The  old  lady  had  kept  on  her  way  unsuspiciously, 
using  as  a  cane  a  faded  blue  umbrella,  which  she 
carried  invariably,  whatever  the  weather. 

When  Mrs.  Payson  felt  herself  sinking,  she  uttered 
a  loud  shriek  and  waved  her  arms  aloft,  brandishing 
her  umbrella  in  a  frantic  way.  She  was  plunged  up 
to  her  arm-pits  in  the  snow,  and  was  of  course  placed 
in  a  very  unfavorable  position  for  extricating  herself. 

The  two  boys  were  at  first  nearly  smothered  by 
the  descent  of  snow,  but  when  the  first  surprise  was 
over  they  recognized  their  prisoner.  I  am  ashamed 
to  say  that  their  first  feeling  was  that  of  unbounded 
delight,  and  they  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter.  The 
sound,  indistinctly  heard,  terrified  the  old  lady  be 
yond  measure,  and  she  struggled  frantically  to  es 
cape,  nearly  poking  out  Pomp's  eye  with  the  point 
of  her  umbrella. 

Pomp,  always  prompt  to  repel  aggression,  in 
return,  pinched  her  foot. 

* '  Massy  sakes  !  Where  am  I  ?  "  ejaculated  the 
affrighted  old  lady.  "There's  some  wild  crittur 
down  there.  O,  Cynthy  Ann,  ef  you  could  see 
your  marm  at  this  moment  I " 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         199 

She  made  another  vigorous  flounder  and  managed 
to  kick  Sam  in  the  face.  Partly  as  a  measure  of 
self-defence  he  seized  her  ancle  firmly. 

* '  He  's  got  hold  of  me  ! "  shrieked  the  old  lady. 
"  Help  !  help  !  I  shall  be  murdered." 

Her  struggles  became  so  energetic  that  the  boys 
soon  found  it  expedient  to  evacuate  the  premises. 
They  crawled  out  by  the  passage  they  had  made,  and 
appeared  on  the  surface  of  the  snow. 

The  old  lady  presented  a  ludicrous  appearance. 
Her  hood  had  slipped  off,  her  spectacles  were  resting 
on  the  end  of  her  nose,  and  she  had  lost  her  work- 
bag.  But  she  clung  with  the  most  desperate  energy 
to  the  umbrella,  on  which  apparently  depended  her 
sole  hope  of  deliverance. 

"  Hi  yah!"  laughed  Pomp,  as  he  threw  himself 
back  on  the  snow,  and  began  to  roll  about  in  an  ec 
stasy  of  delight. 

Instantly  Mrs.  Pay  son's  apprehensions  changed  to 
furious  anger. 

4i  So  it 's  }rou,  you  little  varmint,  that 's  done  this. 
Jest  le'  me  get  out,  and  I  '11  whip  you  so  you  can't 
stan'.  See  ef  I  don't." 

"  You  can't  get  out,  missus  ;  yah,  yah  I  "  laughed 
Pomp.  "  You  's  tied,  you  is,  missus." 

"  Come  an'  help  me  out,  this  minute  ! "  exclaimed 
the  old  lady,  stamping  her  foot. 

"  Lor',  missus,  you'll  whip  me.  You  said  you 
would." 


200  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

"  So  I  will,  I  vum,"  retorted  the  irate  old  lady, 
rather  undiplomatically.  "As  true  as  I  live,  I'll 
whip  you  till  you  can't  stan'." 

As  she  spoke,  she  brandished  her  umbrella  in  a 
menacing  manner. 

"  Den,  missus,  I  guess  you  'd  better  stay  where 
you  is." 

"  O,  you  imp  !  See  ef  I  don't  have  you  put  in 
jail.  Here,  you,  Sam  Thompson,  come  and  help 
me  out.  Ef  you  don't,  I  '11  tell  your  mother,  an' 
she  '11  give  you  the  wust  lickin'  you  ever  had.  I  'm 
surprised  at  you." 

"  You  won't  tell  of  me,  will  you?"  said  Sam,  irre 
solutely. 

"  I  '11  see  about  it,"  said  the  old  lady,  in  a  politic 
tone. 

She  felt  her  powerlessness,  and  that  concession 
must  precede  victory. 

"  Then,  give  me  the  umbrella,"  said  Sam,  who 
evidently  distrusted  her. 

*'  You'll  run  off  with  it,"  said  Mrs.  Pay  son,  sus 
piciously. 

"  No;  I  won't." 

"  Well,  there  'tis." 

"  Come  here,  Pomp,  and  help  me,"  said  Sam. 

Pomp  held  aloof. 

"She'll  whip  me,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head. 
"  She's  an  old  debble." 

"  O  you — you  sarpint !  "  ejaculated  the  old  lady, 
almost  speechless  with  indignation. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         201 

"  You  can  run  away  as  soon  as  she  gets  out," 
suggested  Sam. 

Pomp  advanced  slowly  and  warily,  rolling  his 
eyes  in  indecision. 

"  Jest  catch  hold  of  rny  hands,  both  on  ye,"  said 
Mrs.  Payson,  "  an'  I  '11  give  a  jump." 

These  directions  were  followed,  and  the  old  lady 
rose  to  the  surface,  when,  in  an  evil  hour,  intent  upon 
avenging  herself  upon  Pomp,  she  made  a  clutch  for 
his  collar.  In  doing  so,  she  lost  her  footing  and  fell 
back  into  the  pit  from  which  she  had  just  emerged. 
Her  spectacles  dropped  off,  and  falling  beneath  her 
were  broken. 

She  rose,  half  provoked  and  half  ashamed  of  her 
futile  attempt.  It  was  natural  that  neither  of  these 
circumstances  should  effect  an  improvement  in  her 
temper. 

*'  You  did  it  a  purpose,"  she  said,  shaking  her  fist 
at  Pomp,  who  stood  about  a  rod  off  grinning  at  her 
discomfiture.  "There,  I've  gone  an'  broke  my 
specs,  that  I  bought  two  years  ago,  come  fall,  of  a 
pedler.  I  '11  make  you  pay  for  'em." 

"  Lor',  missus,  I  ain't  got  no  money,"  said  Pomp. 
"  Nebber  had  none." 

Unfortunately  for  the  old  lady,  it  was  altogether 
probable  that  Pomp  spoke  the  truth  this  time. 

"Three  an' sixpence  gone !"  groaned  Mrs.  Pay- 
son.  "Fust  my  bunnit,  an'  then  my  specs.  I'm 
the  most  unfort'nit'  critter.  Why  don't  you  help  me 


202  FKANK'S    CAMPAIGN  ;    OR, 

out,  Sam  Thompson,  instead  of  standin*  and  gawk- 
in*  at  me?"  she  suddenly  exclaimed,  glaring  at 
Sam. 

"I  didn't  know  as  you  was  ready,"  said  Sain. 
"  You  might  have  been  out  before  this,  ef  you 
hadn't  let  go.  Here,  Pomp,  lend  a  hand." 

Pomp  shook  his  head  decisively. 

"  Don't  catch  dis  chile  again,"  he  said.  "I'm 
goin'  home.  Old  woman  wants  to  lick  me." 

Sam  endeavored  to  persuade  Pomp,  but  he  was 
deaf  to  persuasion.  He  squatted  down  on  the  snow, 
and  watched  the  efforts  his  companion  made  to  extri 
cate  the  old  lady.  When  she  was  nearly  out  he 
started  on  a  run,  and  was  at  a  safe  distance  before 
Mrs.  Pay  son  was  in  a  situation  to  pursue  him. 

The  old  lady  shook  herself  to  make  sure  that  no 
bones  were  broken.  Next,  she  sent  Sam  down  into 
the  hole  to  pick  up  her  bag,  and  then  finding,  on  a 
careful  examination,  that  she  had  recovered  every 
thing,  even  to  the  blue  umbrella,  fetched  the  aston 
ished  Sam  a  rousing  box  on  the  ear. 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for?"  he  demanded  in  an 
aggrieved  tone. 

"  'Tain't  half  as  much  as  you  deserve,"  said  the 
old  lady.  "I'm  goin'  to  your  house  right  off,  to 
tell  your  mother  what  you  've  been  a  doin'.  Ef  you 
was  my  child,  I  'd  beat  you  black  and  blue." 

"  I  wish  I'd  left  you  down  there,"  muttered 
Sam. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         203 

"  What's  that?"  demanded  Mrs.  Payson,  sharply. 
"  Don't  you  go  to  bein'  sassy.  It  '11  be  the  wuss  for 
ye.  You'll  corne  to  the  gallows  some  time,  ef  you 
don't  mind  your  P's  and  Q's.  I  might  'ave  stayed 
there  till  I  died,  an'  then  you'd  have  been  hung." 

"What  are  you  jawing  about?"  retorted  Sam. 
*'  How  could  I  know  you  was  cornin'?  " 

"You  know'd  it  well  enough,"  returned  the  old 
lady.  "  You'll  bring  your  mother's  gray  hairs  with 
sorrer  to  the  grave." 

"  She  ain't  got  any  gray  hairs,"  said  Sam,  dog 
gedly. 

"  Well,  she  will  have  some,  ef  she  lives  long 
enough.  I  once  know'd  a  boy  jest  like  you,  an'  he 
was  put  in  jail  for  stealinV 

"  I  ain't  a  goin'  to  stay  and  be  jawed  that  way," 
said  Sam.  "  You  won't  catch  me  pulling  you  out  of 
a  hole  again.  I  would  n't  have  you  for  a  grand 
mother  for  all  the  world.  Tom  Baldwin  told  me, 
only  yesterday,  that  you  was  always  a  hectorin'  him." 

Tom  Baldwin  was  the  son  of  Cynthy  Ann,  and 
consequently  old  Mrs.  Pay  son's  grandson. 

« '  Did  Tom  Baldwin  tell  you  that  ?  "  demanded  the 
old  lady  abruptly,  looking  deeply  incensed. 

"Yes,  he  did." 

"Well,  he's  the  ungratefullest  cub  that  I  ever 
sot  eyes  on,"  exclaimed  his  indignant  grandmother. 
"  Arter  all  I've  done  fur  him.  I  'm  knittin'  a  pair 
of  socks  for  him  this  blessed  minute.  But  he  shan't 


204  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

have  'em.  I'll  give  'em  to  the  soldiers,  I  vum. 
Did  he  say  anything  else  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  said  he  should  be  glad  when  you  were 
gone." 

"  I'll  go  right  home  and  tell  Cynthy  Ann,"  ex 
claimed  Mrs.  Payson,  "  an'  ef  she  don't  w'ip  him  I 
will.  I  never  see  such  a  bad  set  of  boys  as  is 
growin'  up.  There  ain't  one  on  'em  that  is  n't  as  full 
of  mischief  as  a  nut  is  of  meat.  I'll  come  up  with 
them,  as  true  as  I  live." 

Full  of  her  new  indignation,  Mrs.  Payson  gave  up 
her  proposed  call  on  Mrs.  Thompson,  and  turning 
about,  hurried  home  to  lay  her  complaint  before 
Cynthy  Ann. 

*'  I  'in  glad  she's  gone,"  said  Sam,  looking  after 
her,  as  with  resolute  steps  she  trudged  along,  punch 
ing  the  snow  vigorously  with  the  point  of  her  blue 
cotton  umbrella.  "  I  pity  Tom  Baldwin;  if  ]  had 
such  a  grandmother  as  that  I'd  run  away  to  sea. 
That's  so  1 " 


XXIV. 

A    CHAPTER   FROM    HARDEE. 

A  FEW  rods  east  of  the  post-office,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street,  was  a  two-story  building  used  as  an 
Engine  House.  The'  second  story  consisted  of  a  hall 
used  for  company  meetings.  This  the  fire  company 
obligingly  granted  to  the  boys  as  a  drill-room  during 
the  inclement  season,  until  the  weather  became 
sufficiently  warm  to  drill  out  of  doors. 

On  the  Monday  afternoon  succeeding  the  prelimi 
nary  meeting  at  the  Academy,  about  thirty  boys 
assembled  in  this  hall,  pursuant  to  a  notice  which  had 
been  given  at  school  and  posted  up  at  the  tavern  and 
post-office. 

At  half-past  two  Prank  entered  accompanied  by 
Mr.  Morton. 

Some  of  the  boys  were  already  acquainted  with 
him,  and  came  up  to  speak.  He  had  a  frank  cordial 
way  with  boys  which  secured  their  favor  at  first 
sight. 

"Well}  boys,"  said  he,  pleasantly,  "I  believe  I 
am  expected  to  make  soldiers  of  you." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Charles  Reynolds,  respectfully, 
18 


206  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

"  I  hope  we  shall  learn  readily,  and  do  credit  to  your 
instructions." 

"  I  have  no  fear  on  that  score,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Perhaps  you  may  have  some  business  to  transact 
before  we  commence  our  lessons.  If  so  I  will  sit 
down  a  few  moments,  and  wait  till  you  are  ready." 

A  short  business  meeting  was  held,  organized  as 
before. 

John  Haynes  reported  that  he  had  spoken  to  hia 
father,  and  the  question  of  allowing  the  boys  the 
use  of  the  muskets  belonging  to  the  town  would  be 
acted  upon  at  the  next  meeting  of  the  selectmen. 
Squire  Haynes  thought  that  the  request  would  be 
granted. 

* '  What  are  we  going  to  do  this  afternoon  ?  "  asked 
Robert  Ingalls. 

"  I  can  answer  that  question,  Mr.  Chairman," 
said  Henry  Morton.  "  We  are  not  yet  ready  for 
muskets.  I  shall  have  to  drill  you  first  in  the  proper 
position  of  a  soldier,  and  the  military  step.  Proba 
bly  it  will  be  a  week  before  I  shall  wish  to  place 
muskets  into  your  hands.  May  I  inquire  how  soon 
there  will  be  a  meeting  of  the  selectmen  ?  " 

John  Haynes  'announced  that  the  next  meeting 
would  be  holden  in  less  than  a  week. 

"  Then  there  will  be  no  difficulty  as  to  the  mus 
kets,"  said  Mr.  Morton. 

Wilbur  Summerfield  reported  that  he  had  extended 
an  invitation  to  boys  not  connected  with  the  Academy 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         207 

to  join  the  Company.  Several  were  now  present. 
Dick  Bumstead,  though  not  able  to  attend  that  day, 
would  come  to  the  next  meeting.  He  thought  they 
would  be  able  to  raise  a  company  of  fifty  boys. 

This  report  was  considered  very  satisfactory. 

Tom  Wheeler  arose  and  inquired  by  what  name 
the  new  company  would  be  called. 

"  I  move,"  said  Robert  Ingalls,  "  that  we  take 
the  name  of  the  Rossville  Home  Guards." 

"  If  the  enemy  should  invade  Rossville,  you'd  be 
the  first  to  run,"  sneered  John  Haynes. 

"  Not  unless  I  heard  of  it  before  you,"  was  the 
quick  reply. 

There  was  a  general  laugh,  and  cries  of  "  Bully 
for  you,  Bob,"  were  heard. 

*'  Order  !  "  cried  the  Chairman,  pounding  the  table 
energetically.  < '  Such  disputes  cannot  be  allowed. 
I  think  we  had  better  defer  obtaining  a  name  for  our 
company  till  we  find  how  well  we  are  likely  to  suc 
ceed." 

This  proposal  seemed  to  be  acquiesced  in  by  the 
boys  generally.  The  business  meeting  terminated, 
and  Mr.  Morton  was  invited  to  commence  his  instruc 
tions. 

"  The  boys  will  please  form  themselves  in  a  line," 
said  the  teacher,  in  a  clear  commanding  voice. 

This  was  done. 

The  positions  assumed  were,  most  of  them,  far 
from  military.  Some  stood  with  their  legs  too  far 


208  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  on, 

apart,  others  with  one  behind  the  other,  some  with 
the  shoulders  of  unequal  height.  Frank  alone  stood 
correctly,  thanks  to  the  private  instructions  he  had 
received. 

44  Now,  boys,"  said  Mr.  Morton,  "when  I  say 
*  Attention,'  you  must  all  look  at  rne  and  follow  my 
directions  implicitly.  Attention  and  subordination 
are  of  the  first  importance  to  a  soldier.  Let  me  say, 
to  begin  with,  that,  with  one  exception,  you  are  all 
standing  wrong." 

Here  there  was  a  general  shifting  of  positions. 
Robert  Ingalls  who  had  been  standing  with  his  feet 
fifteen  inches  apart,  suddenly  brought  them  close  to 
gether  in  a  parallel  position.  Tom  Wheeler,  who 
had  been  resting  his  weight  mainly  on  the  left  foot 
shifted  to  the  right.  Moses  Rogers  whose  head  was 
bent  over  so  as  to  watch  his  feet,  now  threw  it  so  far 
back  that  he  seemed  to  be  inspecting  the  ceiling. 
Frank  alone  remained  stationary. 

Mr.  Morton  smiled  at  the  changes  elicited  by  his 
remarks,  and  proceeded  to  give  his  first  command. 

"  Heels  on  the  same  line  !  "  he  ordered. 

All  the  boys  turned  their  heads,  and  there  was  a 
noisy  shuffling  of  feet. 

"  Quit  crowding,  Tom  Baldwin  !  "exclaimed  Sain 
Rivers  in  an  audible  tone. 

"  Quit  crowding  yourself,"  was  the.  reply. 
"You've  got  more  room  than  I  now." 

"  Silence  in  the  ranks!"  said  the  instructor  au- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         209 

thoritatively.  "Frank  Frost,  I  desire  you  to  see 
that  the  boys  stand  at  regular  distances." 

This  was  accomplished. 

"  Turn  out  your  foct  equally  so  as  to  form  a  right 
angle  with  each  other.  So." 

Mr.  Morton  illustrated  his  meaning  practically. 
This  was  very  necessary  as  some  of  the  boys  had 
very  confused  ideas  as  to  what  was  meant  by  a  right 
angle. 

After  some  time  this  order  was  satisfactorily  car 
ried  out. 

"  The  knees  must  be  straight.    I  see  that  some  are 

O 

bent  as  if  the  weight  of  the  body  were  too  much  for 
them.  JSTot  too  stiff!  Rivers,  yours  are  too  rigid. 
You  could  n't  walk  a  mile  in  that  way  without  be 
coming  very  tired.  There,  that  is  much  better. 
Notice  my  position." 

The  boys  after  adjusting  their  positions  looked  at 
the  rest  to  see  how  they  had  succeeded. 

"Don't  look  at  each  other,"  said  Mr.  Morton. 
"  If  you  do  you  will  be  certain  to  make  blunders.  I 
notice  that  some  of  you  are  standing  with  one  shoul 
der  higher  than  the  other.  The  shoulders  should  be 
square,  and  the  body  should  be  erect  upon  the  hips. 
Attention  !  So  !  " 

"Very   well.     Haynes,  you   are  trying  to  stand 
too  upright.     You  must  not  bend  backwards.     All, 
incline  your  bodies  a  little  forward.     Frank  Ingalls 
is  standing  correctly." 
18* 


210  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OK, 

"  I  don't  think  that's  very  soldierly,"  said  John 
Haynes,  who  felt  mortified  at  being  corrected,  hav 
ing  flattered  himself  that  he  was  right  and  the  rest 
were  wrong. 

<%A  soldier  shouldn't  be  round-shouldered,  or 
have  a  slouching  gait,"  said  the  instructor,  quietly  ; 
"  but  you  will  find  when  you  come  to  march  that  the 
opposite  extreme  is  attended  with  great  inconvenience 
and  discomfort.  Until  then  you  must  depend  upon 
my  assurance." 

Mr.  Morton  ran  his  eyes  along  the  line,  and  ob 
served  that  most  of  the  boys  were  troubled  about 
their  arms.  Some  allowed  them  to  hang  in  stiff 
rigidity  by  their  sides.  One,  even,  had  his  clasped 
behind  his  back.  Others  let  theirs  dangle  loosely, 
swinging  now  hither,  now  thither. 

He  commented  upon  these  errors,  and  added, 
"  let  your  arms  hang  naturally,  with  the  elbows  near 
the  body,  the  palm  of  the  hand  a  little  turned  to  the 
front,  the  little  finger  behind  the  seam  of  the  panta 
loons.  This  you  will  find  important  when  you  come 
to  drill  with  muskets.  You  will  find  that  it  will 
economize  space  by  preventing  your  occupying  more 
room  than  is  necessary.  Frank,  will  you  show  Sam 
Rivers  and  John  Haynes  how  to  hold  their  hands  ?  " 

"  You  need  n't  trouble  yourself,"  said  John,  haugh 
tily,  but  in  too  low  a  voice,  as  he  supposed,  for  Mr. 
Morton  to  hear.  « « I  don't  want  a  clodhopper  to 
teach  me." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         211 

Frank's  face  flushed  slightly,  and  without  a  word 
he  passed  John,  and  occupied  himself  with  showing 
Sam  Kivers,  who  proved  more  tractable. 

44  No  talking  in  the  ranks  !  "  said  Mr.  Morton,  in 
a  tone  of  authority.  "  If  any  boy  wishes  to  ask  any 
explanation  of  me  he  may  do  so,  but  it  is  a  breach 
of  discipline  to  speak  to  each  other." 

"  My  next  order  will  be,  — faces  to  the  front!" 
he  resumed  after  a  pause.  «'  Nothing  looks  worse 
than  to  see  a  file  of  men  with  their  heads  turned  in 
various  directions.  The  eyes  should  be  fixed  straight 
before  you,  striking  the  ground  at  about  fifteen  paces 
forward." 

It  required  some  time  to  have  this  direction  prop 
erly  carried  out.  Half  an  hour  had  now  passed,  and 
some  of  the  boys  showed  signs  of  weariness. 

"I  will  now  give  you  a  little  breathing-spell  for 
ten  minutes,"  said  Mr.  Morton.  "  After  this  we 
will  resume  our  exercises." 

The  boys  stretched  their  limbs,  and  began  to  con 
verse  in  an  animated  strain  about  the  lesson  which 
they  had  just  received. 

At  the  expiration  of  ten  minutes  the  lesson  was  re 
sumed,  and  some  additional  directions  were  given. 

It  will  not  be  necessary  for  us  to  follow  the  boys 
during  the  remainder  of  the  lesson.  Most  of  them 
made  very  creditable  progress,  and  the  line  presented 
quite  a  different  appearance  at  the  end  of  the  ex 
ercise  from  what  it  had  at  the  commencement. 


212  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

"I  shall  be  prepared  to  give  you  a  second  lesson 
on  Saturday  afternoon,"  announced  Mr.  Morton. 
44  In  the  mean  time  it  will  be  well  for  you  to  remem 
ber  what  I  have  said,  and  if  you  should  feel  inclined 
to  practise  by  yourselves,  it  will  no  doubt  make  your 
progress  more  rapid." 

These  remarks  were  followed  by  a  clapping  of 
hands  on  the  part  of  the  boys,  —  a  demonstration  of 
applause  which  Mr.  Morton  acknowledged  by  a  bow 
and  a  smile. 

"  Well,  how  do  you  like  it?"  asked  Frank  Frost 
of  Robert  Ingalls. 

"  O,  it's  bully  fun  !  "  returned  Bob,  enthusiastically. 
"  I  feel  like  a  hero  already." 

4 *  You 're  as  much  of  one  now,  Bob,  as  you'll 
ever  be,"  said  Wilbur,  good  naturedly. 

"  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  be  a  soldier,"  retorted 
Bob.  "  You  're  too  fat  to  run,  and  would  be  too 
frightened  to  fight." 

*  *  I  certainly  could  n't  expect  to  keep  up  with 
those  long  legs  of  yours,  Bob,"  said  Wilbur, 
laughing. 

The  boys  dispersed  in  excellent  humor,  fully  de 
termined  to  persevere  in  their  military  exercises. 


XXV. 

ELECTION    OF   OFI1CERS. 

FOR  the  six  weeks  following  Mr.  Morton  gave 
lessons  twice  a  week  to  the  boys.  At  the  third  les 
son  they  received  their  muskets,  and  thenceforth 
drilled  with  them.  A  few  who  had  not  been  present 
at  the  first  two  lessons,  and  were  consequently  igno 
rant  of  the  positions,  Mr.  Morton  turned  over  to 
Frank,  who  proved  an  efficient  and  competent  in 
structor. 

At  the  end  of  the  twelfth  lesson,  Mr.  Morton, 
after  giving  the  order  * 4  Kest !  "  addressed  the  boys 
as  follows  :  — 

"Boys,  we  have  now  taken  twelve  lessons  to 
gether.  I  have  been  very  much  gratified  by  the 
rapid  improvement  which  you  have  made,  and  feel 
that  it  is  due  quite  as  much  to  your  attention  as  to  any 
instructions  of  mine.  I  can  say  with  truth  that  I 
have  known  companies  of  grown  men  who  have  made 
less  rapid  progress  than  you. 

"  The  time  has  now  come  when  I  feel  that  I  can 
eafely  leave  you  to  yourselves.  There  are  those 
among  you  who  are  sompetent  to  carry  on  the  work 


214  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

which  I  have  commenced.  It  will  be  desirable  foi 
you  at  once  to  form  a  company  organization.  As 
there  are  but  fifty  on  your  muster-roll,  being  about 
half  the  usual  number,  you  will  not  require  as  many 
officers.  I  recommend  the  election  of  a  Captain,  first 
and  second  lieutenants,  three  sergeants  and  three  cor 
porals.  You  have  already  become  somewhat  accus 
tomed  to  company  drill ,  so  that  you  will  be  able  to  go 
on  by  yourselves  under  the  guidance  of  your  officers. 
If  any  doubtful  questions  should  arise,  I  shall  always 
be  happy  to  give  you  any  information  or  assistance  in 
my  power. 

4 'And  now,  boys,  I  will  bid  you  farewell  in  my 
capacity  of  instructor ;  but  I  need  not  say  that  I 
shall  continue  to  watch  with  interest  your  progress  in 
the  military  art." 

Here  Mr.  Morton  bowed,  and  sat  down. 

After  the  applause  which  followed  his  speech  had 
subsided,  there  was  a  silence  and  hush  of  expectation 
among  the  boys,  after  which  Charles  Reynolds  rose 
slowly,  and  taking  from  the  seat  beside  him  a  pack 
age,  advanced  towards  Mr.  Morton,  and  made  a  brief 
epeeck  of  presentation,  having  been  deputed  by  the 
boys  to  perform  that  duty. 

"  MR.  MORTON:  — 

"  I  stand  here  in  behalf  of  the  boys  present,  who 
wish  to  express  to  you  their  sense  of  your  kindness 


THE  FABM  AND  THE  CAMP.         215 

in  giving  them  the  course  of  lessons  which  has  just 
ended.  We  have  taken  up  much  of  your  time,  and 
no  doubt  have  tried  your  patience  more  than  once. 
If  we  have  improved,  as  yoti  were  kind  enough  to 
say,  we  feel  that  it  is  principally  owing  to  our  good 
fortune  in  having  so  skilful  a  teacher.  Yvre  wish  to 
present  you  some  testimonial  of  the  regard  which  we 
have  for  you,  and  accordingly  a.sk  your  acceptance  of 
this  copy  of  '  Abbott's  Life  of  Napoleon.'  We  should 
have  been  glad  to  give  you  something  more  valuable, 
but  we  are  sure  you  will  value  the  gift  for  other 
reasons  than  its  cost." 

Here  Charles  Reynolds  sat  down,  and  all  eyes  were 
turned  towards  Mr.  Morton.  It  was  evident  that  he 
was  taken  by  surprise.  It  was  equally  evident  that 
he  was  much  gratified  by  this  unexpected  token  of 
regard. 

He  rose  and  with  much  feeling  spoke  as  follows  : 

'*  My  dear  boys,  for  you  must  allow  me  to  call  you 
so,  I  can  hardly  tell  you  how  much  pleasure  your 
kind  gift  has  afforded  me.  It  gives  me  the  assurance, 
which  indeed  I  did  not  need,  that  you  are  as  much 
my  friends  as  I  am  yours.  The  connection  between 
us  has  afforded  me  much  pleasure  and  satisfaction, 
In  training  you  to  duties  which  patriotism  may  here 
after  devolve  upon  you,  (though  I  pray  Heaven  that 
long  before  that  time  our  terrible  civil  strife  may  be 


216  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

at  an  end,)  I  feel  that  I  have  helped  you  to  do 
something  to  show  your  loyal  devotion  to  the  country 
which  we  all  love  and  revere.  (Here  there  was 
loud  applause.)  If  you  were  a  few  years  older  I 
doubt  not  that  your  efforts  would  be  added  to  those 
of  your  fathers  and  brothers  who  are  now  encounter 
ing  the  perils  and  suffering  the  privations  of  war. 
And  with  a  little  practice  I  am  proud  to  say  that  you 
would  not  need  to  be  ashamed  of  the  figure  you 
would  cut  in  the  field. 

"  I  have  little  more  to  say.  I  recognize  a  fitness 
in  the  selection  of  the  work  which  you  have  given  me. 
Napoleon  is  without  doubt  the  greatest  military  genius 
which  our  modern  age  has  produced.  Yet  he  lacked 
one  very  essential  characteristic  of  a  good  soldier. 
He  was  more  devoted  to  his  own  selfish  ends  than  to 
the  welfare  of  his  country.  I  shall  value  your  gift 
for  the  good  wishes  that  accompany  it,  and  the  recol 
lection  of  this  day  will  be  among  my  pleasantest 


Mr.  Morton  here  withdrew  in  the  midst  of  hearty 
applause. 

When  he  had  left  the  hall  a  temporary  organiza 
tion  for  business  purposes  was  at  once  effected. 
Wilbur  Summerfield  was  placed  in  the  Chair,  and 
the  meeting  proceeded  at  once  to  an  election  of 
officers. 

For  a  week  or  two  past  there  had  been  consider- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        217 

able  private  canvassing  among  the  boys.  There 
were  several  who  would  like  to  have  been  elected 
Captain,  and  a  number  of  others,  who,  though  not 
aspiring  so  high,  hoped  to  be  first  or  second  lieuten 
ants.  Among  the  first  class  was  John  Haynes. 
Like  many  persons  who  are  unpopular,  he  did  not 
seem  to  be  at  all  aware  of  the  extent  of  his  unpopu 
larity. 

But  there  was  another  weighty  reason  why  the 
choice  of  the  boys  would  never  have  fallen  upon 
him.  Apart  from  his  unpopularity,  he  was  incom 
petent  for  the  posts  to  which  he  aspired.  Probably 
there  were  not  ten  boys  in  the  company  who  were 
not  more  proficient  in  drill  than  he.  This  was  not 
owing  to  any  want  of  natural  capacity,  but  to  a 
feeling  that  he  did  not  require  much  instruction,  and 
a  consequent  lack  of  attention  to  the  directions  of 
Mr.  Morton.  He  had  frequently  been  corrected  in 
mistakes,  but  always  received  the  correction  with 
sullenness  and  impatience.  He  felt  in  his  own  mind 
that  he  was  much  better  fitted  to  govern  than  to 
obey ;  forgetting  in  his  ambition  that  it  is  those  only 
who  have  first  learned  to  obey  who  are  best  qualified 
to  rule  others. 

Desirous  of  ingratiating  himself  with  the  boys, 
and  so  securing  their  votes,  he  had  been  unusually 
amiable  and  generous  during  the  past  week.  At  th* 
previous  lesson,  he  had  brought  half  a  bushel  of 
apples  from  which  he  had  requested  the  boys  to  help 
19 


218  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

themselves  freely.  By  this  means  he  hoped  to  attain 
the  object  of  his  ambition. 

Squire  Haynes,  too,  was  interested  in  the  success 
of  his  son. 

"  If  they  elect  you  Captain,  John,"  he  promised, 
"  I  will  furnish  you  money  enough  to  buy  a  hand 
some  sash  and  sword." 

Besides  John,  there  were  several  others  who 
cherished  secret  hopes  of  success.  Among  these 
were  Charles  Reynolds  and  Wilbur  Summerfield. 
As  for  Frank  Frost,  though  he  had  thought  little 
about  it,  he  could  not  help  feeling  that  he  was  among 
those  best  qualified  for  office,  though  he  would  have 
been  quite  content  with  either  of  the  three  highest 
offices,  or  even  with  the  post  of  orderly  sergeant. 

Among  those  who  had  acquitted  themselves  with 
the  greatest  credit  was  our  old  friend  Dick  Bumstead, 
whom  we  remember  last  as  concerned  in  rather  a 
questionable  adventure.  Since  that  time  his  general 
behavior  had  very  much  changed  for  the  better. 
Before,  he  had  always  shirked  work  when  it  was  pos 
sible.  Now  he  exhibited  a  steadiness  and  industry 
which  surprised  no  less  than  it  gratified  his  father. 

This  change  was  partly  owing  to  his  having  given 
up  some  companions  who  had  done  him  no  good,  and 
instead,  sought  the  society  of  Frank.  The  energy 
and  manliness  exhibited  by  his  new  friend,  and  the 
sensible  views  which  he  took  of  life  and  duty,  had 
wrought  quite  a  revolution  in  Dick's  character.  He 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         219 

began  to  see  that  if  he  ever  meant  to  accomplish  any 
thing  he  must  beijin  now.  At  Frank's  instance  he 

O  O 

had  giving  up  smoking,  and  this  cut  off  one  of  the 
temptations  which  had  assailed  him.  Gradually  the 
opinion  entertained  of  Dick  in  the  village  as  a  ne'er- 
do-well  was  modified,  and  he  had  come  to  be  classed 
as  one  of  the  steady  and  reliable  boys  —  a  reputation 
not  to  be  lightly  regarded. 

In  the  present  election  Dick  did  not  dream  that  he 
could  have  any  interest.  While  he  had  been  inter 
ested  in  the  lessons,  and  done  his  best,  he  felt  that 
his  previous  reputation  would  injure  his  chances,  and 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he  should  have  to  serve 
in  the  ranks.  This  did  not  trouble  him,  for  Dick,  to 
his  credit  be  it  said,  was  very  free  from  jealousy,  and 
had  not  a  particle  of  envy  in  his  composition.  He 
possessed  so  many  good  qualities  that  it  would  have 
been  a  thousand  pities  if  he  had  kept  on  in  his  former 
course. 

"  You  will  bring  in  your  votes  for  Captain,"  said 
the  Chairman. 

Tom  Wheeler  distributed  slips  of  paper  among  the 
boys,  and  there  was  forthwith  a  plentiful  show  of 
pencils. 

"  Are  the  votes  all  in  ?"  inquired  the  Chairman,  a 
little  late.  "  If  so,  we  will  proceed  to  count  them." 

There  was  a  general  hush  of  expectation  while 
Wilbur  Summerfield,  the  Chairman,  and  Robert 
Ingalls,  the  Secretary  of  the  meeting,  were  counting 


220  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

the   votes.     John   Haynes    was    evidently  nervous, 
and  fidgeted  about  anxious  to  learn  his  fate. 

At  length  the  count  was  completed,  and  Wilbur 
rising  announced  it  as  follows  :  — 

Whole  number  of  votes  .          .         49. 

Necessary  for  a  choice  .          .     25. 

Robert  Ingalls            ...  2  votes. 

John  Haynes         .          .  .                  2  " 

Wilbur  Summerfield  .          .             4  " 

Moses  Rogers        .          .  .                 4  " 

Charles  Reynolds      .  .          .           10  " 

Frank  Frost          .         .  .          .     27  « 

"  Gentlemen,  I  have  the  pleasure  of  announcing 
that  you  have  made  choice  of  Frank  Frost  as  your 
Captain." 

Frank  rose  amid  a  general  clapping  of  hands,  and 
with  heightened  color  but  modest  self-possession, 
spoke  as  follows:  "Boys,  I  thank  you  very  much 
for  this  proof  of  your  confidence.  All  I  can  say  is 
that  I  will  endeavor  to  deserve  it.  I  shall  no  doubt 
make  some  mistakes,  but  I  feel  sure  that  you  will 
grant  me  your  indulgence,  and  not  expect  too  much 
of  my  inexperience." 

This  speech  was  regarded  with  favor  by  all  except 
John  Haynes,  who  would  rather  have  had  any  one 
else  elected,  independent  of  his  own  disappointment, 
which  was  great. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        221 

* '  You  will  now  prepare  your  votes  for  First  Lieu 
tenant,"  said  the  presiding  officer. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  two  votes  were  cast  for  John 
Haynes.  One  of  these  was  thrown  by  a  competitor 
who  wished  to  give  his  vote  to  some,,  one  who  stood 
no  possible  chance  of  succeeding,  and  accordingly 
selected  John  on  account  of  his  well-known  unpopu 
larity.  This  vote  therefore  was  far  from  being  a 
compliment.  As  for  the  other  vote  John  Haynes 
himself  best  knew  by  whom  it  was  cast. 

The  boys  began  to  prepare  their  votes  for  first  lieu 
tenant. 

John  brightened  up  a  little.  Pie  felt  that  it  would 
be  something  to  gain  this  office.  But  when  the  result 
of  the  balloting  was  announced,  it  proved  that  he 
had  but  a  single  vote. 

There  were  several  scattering  votes.  The  two  prom 
inent  candidates  were  Dick  Bumstead  who  received 
eight  votes,  and  Charles  Reynolds  who  received  thirty- 
two,  and  was  accordingly  declared  elected. 

No  one  was  more  surprised  by  this  announcement 
than  Dick.  He  felt  quite  bewildered,  not  having  the 
slightest  expectation  of  being  a  candidate.  He  was 
almost  tempted  to  believe  that  the  votes  had  only 
been  cast  in  jest. 

But  Dick  was  destined  to  a  still  greater  sur 
prise.  At  the  next  vote  for  second  lieutenant  there 
were  five  scattering  votes.  Then  came  ten  for  Wil 
bur  Summerfield,  and  Richard  Bumstead  led  off 
19* 


222  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

with  thirty-four,  and  was  accordingly  declared  duly 
elected. 

"  Speech  !  Speech  ! "  exclaimed  half  a  dozen,  vo 
ciferously. 

Dick  looked  a  little  confused,  and  tried  to  escape 
the  call.  But  the  boys  were  determined  to  have  him 
up,  and  he  was  finally  compelled  to  rise,  looking  and 
feeling  rather  awkward.  But  his  natural  good  sense 
and  straightforwardness  came  to  his  aid,  and  he  ac 
quitted  himself  quite  creditably. 

This  was  Dick's  speech. 

"  Boys,  I  don't  know  how  to  make  speeches,  and 
I  s'pose  you  know  that  as  well  as  I  do.  I  hardly 
knew  who  was  meant  when  Richard  Bumstead's  name 
was  mentioned,  having  always  been  culled  Dick  ;  but 
if  it  means  rne,  all  I  can  say  is,  that  I  arn  very  much 
obliged  to  you  for  the  unexpected  honor.  One 
reason  why  I  did  not  expect  to  be  elected  to  any 
office  was  because  I  ain't  as  good  a  scholar  as  most 
of  you.  I  am  sure  there  are  a  great  many  of  you 
who  would  make  better  officers  than  I,  but  I  don't 
think  there 's  any  that  will  try  harder  to  do  well  than 
I  shall." 

Here  Dick  sat  down,  very  much  astonished  to  find 
that  he  had  actually  made  a  speech.  His  speech  was 
modest,  and  made  a  favorable  impression,  as  was 
shown  by  the  noisy  stamping  of  feet,  and  shouts  of 
"  Bully  for  you,  Dick  !  "  "  You  're  a  trump  !  "  and 
other  terms  in  which  boys  are  wont  to  signify  their 
approbation. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        223 

Through  all  this  John  Haynes  looked  very  much 
disgusted,  and  seemed  half  decided  upon  leaving  the 
room.  He  had  some  curiosity,  however,  to  learn 
who  would  be  elected  to  the  subordinate  offices,  and 
so  remained.  He  had  come  into  the  room  with  the 
determination  not  to  accept  anything  below  a  lieu 
tenancy,  but  now  made  up  his  mind  not  to  reject  the 
post  erf  orderly  sergeant  if  it  should  be  offered  to 
him.  The  following  list  of  officers,  however,  will 
show  that  he  was  allowed  no  choice  in  the  matter. 

Captain,  Frank  Frost. 
First  Lieutenant,  Charles  Reynolds. 
Second  Lieutenant,  Richard  Bumstead. 
Orderly  Sergeant,  Wilbur  Summerfield. 
Second  Sergeant,  Robert  Ingalls. 
Third  Sergeant,  Moses  Rogers. 
First  Corporal,  Tom  Wheeler. 
Second  Corporal,  Joseph  Barry. 
Third  Corporal,  Frank  Ingalls. 

The  entire  list  of  officers  was  now  read,  and  re 
ceived  with  applause.  If  there  were  some  who  were 
disappointed,  they  acquiesced  good-naturedly,  with 
one  exception. 

When  the  applause  had  subsided,  John  Haynes 
rose,  and  in  a  voice  trembling  with  passion,  said :  — 

"  Mr.  Chairman,  I  wish  to  give  notice  to  all  pres 
ent  that  I  resign  my  place  as  a  member  of  this  Com- 


224  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OB, 

pany.  I  don't  choose  to  serve  under  such  officers  as 
you  have  chosen  to-day.  I  don't  think  they  are  fit 
to  have  command." 

Here  there  was  a  general  chorus  of  hisses,  drown 
ing  John's  voice  completely.  After  glancing  about 
him  a  moment  in  speechless  fury,  he  seized  his  hat, 
and  left  the  room  in  indignant  haste,  slamming  the 
door  after  him. 

"  He's  a  mean  fellow  !  "  said  Frank  Ingalls.  •*  I 
suppose  he  expected  to  be  Captain." 

"  Shouldn't  wonder,"  said  Sam  Rivers.  "  Any 
how,  he 's  a  fool  to  make  such  a  fuss  about  it.  As 
for  me,"  he  added,  with  a  mirthful  glance,  "I  am 
just  as  much  disappointed  as  he  is.  When  I  came 
here  this  afternoon  I  expected  I  should  be  elected 
Captain,  and  I  'd  got  my  speech  all  ready  ;  but  now 
I  'm  sorry  that  it  will  have  to  be  wasted." 

There  was  a  general  burst  of  laughter,  for  Sam 
Rivers,  whom  everybody  liked  for  his  good  nature, 
was  incorrigibly  awkward,  and  had  made  a  larger 
number  of  blunders,  probably,  than  any  other  mem 
ber  of  the  Company. 

"  Give  us  the  speech,  Sam,"  said  Bob  Ingalls. 

11  Yes,  don't  let  it  be  wasted." 

"  Speech,  speech  !  "  cried  Joseph  Barry. 

"  Very  well,  gentlemen,  if  you  desire  it." 

Sam  drew  from  his  pocket  a  blank  piece  of  paper, 
and  pretended  to  read  the  following  speech,  which  he 
made  up  on  the  spur  of  the  moment. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         225 

61  Ahem  !  gentlemen,"  he  commenced,  in  a  pomp 
ous  tone,  assuming  an  air  of  importance:  "I  ain 
deeply  indebted  to  you  for  this  very  unexpected 
honor." 

44  O,  very,"  said  one  of  the  boys  near. 

4  4 1  feel  that  you  have  done  yourself  credit  in  your 
selection." 

Here  there  was  a  round  of  applause. 

* fc  I  am  sorry  that  some  of  you  are  still  very  awk 
ward,  but  I  hope  under  my  excellent  discipline  to 
make  veterans  of  you  in  less  than  no  time." 

44  Good  for  you!" 

"  You  cannot  expect  me  to  remain  long  with  you, 
as  I  am  now  in  the  line  of  promotion,  and  don't  mean 
to  stop  short  of  a  brigadier.  But  as  long  as  I  am 
your  Captain,  I  hope  you  will  appreciate  your  priv 
ileges." 

Sam's  speech  was  followed  by  a  chorus  of  laughter, 
in  which  he  joined  heartily  himself. 

As  for  John's  defection  nobody  seemed  to  regret 
it  much.  It  was  generally  felt  that  the  Company 
would  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  along  without 
him. 


XXVI. 

THE    REBEL    TRAP. 

ON  the  first  of  April  Frank  received  the  following 
letter  from  his  father.  It  was  the  more  welcome  be 
cause  nearly  a  month  had  elaped  since  anything  had 
been  received,  and  the  whole  family  had  become  quite 
anxious. 

DEAR  FRANK  (the  letter  commenced),  you  are 
no  doubt  feeling  anxious  on  account  of  my  loni>;  si- 

O  */  O 

lence.  You  will  understand  the  cause  of  it  when  I 
tell  you  that  since  the  date  of  my  last  letter  I  have 
been  for  a  fortnight  in  the  enemy's  hands  as  a  pris 
oner.  Fortunately  I  have  succeeded  in  effecting  my 
escape.  You  will  naturally  be  interested  to  learn 
the  particulars. 

Three  weeks  since,  a  lady  occupying  an  estate 
about  five  miles  distant  from  our  camp,  waited  on 
our  commanding  officer  and  made  an  urgent  request 
to  have  a  few  soldiers  detailed  as  a  guard  to  protect 
her  and  her  property  from  molestation  and  loss. 
Our  colonel  was  not  at  first  disposed  to  grant  her 
request,  but  finally  acceded  to  it,  rather  reluctantly, 
declaring  that  it  was  all  nonsense,  I  was  selected, 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         227 

with  five  other  men,  to  serve  as  a  guard.  Mrs. 
Eoberts  —  for  this  was  her  name  —  appeared  quite 
gratified  to  find  her  request  granted,  and  drove 
slowly  home  under  our  escort. 

On  arriving,  we  found  a  mansion  in  the  old 
Virginia  style,  low  in  elevation,  broad  upon  the 
ground,  and  with  a  piazza  extending  along  the 
front.  Surrounding  it  was  a  good-sized  planta 
tion.  At  a  little  distance  from  the  house  was  a 
row  of  negro  huts.  These  were  mostly  vacant,  — 
the  former  occupants  having  secured  their  freedom 
by  taking  refuge  within  our  lines. 

As  sergeant  in  command  (you  must  know  that 
I  have  been  promoted) ,  I  inquired  of  Mrs.  Roberts 
what  danger  she  apprehended.  Her  answers  were 
vague  arid  unsatisfactory.  However,  she  seemed 
disposed  to  treat  me  very  civilly,  and  at  nine  o'clock 
invited  the  whole  party  into  the  house  to  partake  of 
a  little  refreshment.  This  invitation  was  very  wel 
come  to  soldiers  who  had  not  for  months  partaken  of 
anything  better  than  camp  fare.  It  was  all  the  more 
acceptable  because  outside  a  cold  rain  was  falling, 
and  the  mud  was  deep  and  miry. 

In  the  dining-room  we  found  a  plentiful  meal 
spread,  including  hot  coffee,  hot  corn-bread,  bacon, 
and  other  viands.  We  were  not,  however,  destined 
to  take  our  supper  in  peace.  As  I  was  drinking  my 
second  cup  of  coffee  I  thought  I  heard  a  noise  out 
side,  and  remarked  it  to  Mrs.  Roberts. 


228  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

"  It  is  only  the  wind,  sergeant,"  said  she,  indif 
ferently. 

It  was   not  loni>'  before  I  became  convinced  that 

O 

it  was  something  more  serious.  I  ordered  my  men 
to  stand  to  their  arms,  in  spite  of  the  urgent  protes 
tations  of  the  old  lady,  and  marched  them  out  upon 
the  lawn,  just  in  time  to  be  confronted  by  twenty 
or  thirty  men  on  horseback,  clad  in  the  Rebel  uni 
form. 

Resistance  against  such  odds  would  have  been 
only  productive  of  useless  loss  of  life,  and  with  my 
little  force  I  was  compelled  to  surrender  myself  a 
prisoner. 

Of  course  I  no  longer  doubted  that  we  were  the 
victims  of  a  trick,  and  had  been  lured  by  Mrs.  Rob 
erts  purposely  to  be  made  prisoners.  If  I  had  had 
any  doubts  on  the  subject,  her  conduct  would  have 
dissipated  them.  She  received  our  captors  with  open 
arms.  They  stepped  into  our  places  as  guests,  and 
the  house  was  thrown  open  to  them.  Our  arms 
were  taken  from  us,  our  hands  were  pinioned,  and  a 
scene  of  festivity  ensued.  A  cask  of  wine  was 
brought  up  from  the  cellar,  and  the  contents  freely 
distributed  among  the  Rebels,  or  grey  backs,  as  we 
call  them  here. 

Once,  as  Mrs.  Roberts  passed  through  the  little 
room  where  we  were  confined,  I  said,  "  Do  you  con 
sider  this  honorable  conduct,  madam,  to  lure  us  here 
by  false  representations,  and  then  betray  us  to  our 
enemies  ?  " 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         229 

"  Yes,  I  do  !  "  said  she,  hotly.  "  What  business 
have  you  to  come  down  here  and  lay  waste  our  ter 
ritory  ?  There  is  no  true  Southern  woman  but  de- 
epises  you  heartily,  and  would  do  as  much  as  I  have, 
and  more,  too.  You  Ve  got  my  son  a  prisoner  in 
one  of  your  Yankee  prisons.  When  I  heard  that 
he  was  taken,  I  swore  to  be  revenged ;  and  I  have 
kept  my  word.  I  've  got  ten  for  one,  though  he  's 
worth  a  hundred  such  as  you  !  " 

So  saying,  she  swept  out  of  the  room,  with  a 
scornful  look  of  triumph  in  her  eyes.  The  next  day, 
as  I  afterwards  learned,  she  sent  word  to  our  colonel 
that  her  house  had  been  unexpectedly  attacked  by  a 
large  party  of  the  Rebels,  and  that  we  had  been 
taken  prisoners.  Her  complicity  was  suspected,  but 
was  not  proved  till  our  return  to  the  camp.  Of 
course,  a  further  guard,  which  she  asked  for,  to  di 
vert  suspicion,  was  refused. 

Meanwhile  we  were  carried  some  twenty  miles 
across  the  river,  and  confined  in  a  building;  which 

O 

had  formerly  been  used  as  a  storehouse. 

The  place  was  dark  and  gloomy.  There  were 
some  dozen  others  who  shared  our  captivity.  Here 
we  had  rather  a  doleful  time.  We  were  supplied 
with  food  three  times  a  day ;  but  the  supply  was 
scanty,  and  we  had  meat  but  once  in  two  days. 
We  gathered  that  it  was  intended  to  send  us  to  Eich- 
mond  ;  but  from  day  to  day  there  was  a  delay  in  do 
ing  so.  We  decided  that  our  chance  of  escape  would 

20 


230  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

be  much  better  then  than  after  we  reached  the  Kebel 
capital.  We  therefore  formed  a  plan  for  defeating 
the  intentions  of  our  captors. 

Though  the  building  assigned  to  us  as  a  prison 
consisted  of  two  stories,  we  were  confined  in  the 
lower  part.  This  was  more  favorable  to  our  designs. 
During  the  night  we  busied  ourselves  in  loosening 
two  of  the  planks  of  the  flooring,  so  that  we  could 
remove  them  at  any  time.  Then  lowering  two  of 
our  number  into  the  cellar,  we  succeeded  in  remov 
ing  enough  of  the  stone  foundation  to  allow  the  es 
cape  of  one  man  at  a  time  through  the  aperture. 
Our  arrangements  were  hastened  by  the  assignment 
of  a  particular  day  on  which  we  were  to  be  trans 
ferred  from  our  prison,  and  conveyed  to  Richmond. 
Though  we  should  have  been  glad  to  enter  the  city 
under  some  circumstances,  we  did  not  feel  very  de 
sirous  of  going  as  prisoners  of  war. 

On  the  night  selected  we  waited  impatiently  till 
midnight.  Then,  as  silently  as  possible,  we  removed 
the  planking,  and  afterwards  the  stones  of  the  base 
ment  wall,  and  crept  through  one  by  one.  All  this 
was  effected  so  noiselessly  that  we  were  all  out  with 
out  creating  any  alarm.  We  could  hear  the  meas 
ured  tramp  of  the  sentinel,  as  he  paced  up  and  down 
in  front  of  the  empty  prison.  We  pictured  to  our 
selves  his  surprise  when  he  discovered,  the  next 
morning,  that  we  had  escaped  under  his  nose  with 
out  his  knowing  it  I 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        231 

I  need  not  dwell  upon  the  next  twenty-four  hours. 
The  utmost  vigilance  was  required  to  elude  the 
Rebel  pickets.  At  last,  after  nearly  twenty  hours, 
during  which  we  had  had  nothing  to  eat,  we  walked 
into  camp,  exhausted  with  hunger  and  fatigue,  to  the 
great  joy  of  our  comrades  from  whom  we  had  been 
absent  a  fortnight. 

On  receiving  information  of  the  manner  in  which 
we  had  been  captured,  our  commanding  officer  at  once 
despatched  me  with  a  detachment  of  men  to  arrest 
Airs.  Roberts  and  her  daughter.  Her  surprise  and 
dismay  at  seeing  me  whom  she  supposed  safe  in 
Richmond  were  intense.  She  is  still  under  arrest. 

I  suppose  our  campaign  will  open  as  soon  as  the 
roads  are  dried  up.  The  mud  in  Virginia  is  much 
more  formidable  than  at  the  North,  and  presents  an 
insuperable,  perhaps  I  should  say  an  unfathomable 
obstacle  to  active  operations.  I  hope  General  Grant 
will  succeed  in  taking  Vicksburg.  The  loss  of  that 
important  stronghold  would  be  a  great  blow  to  the 
Rebels. 

You  ask  me,  in  your  last  letter,  whether  I  see 
much  of  the  contrabands.  I  have  talked  with  a 
considerable  number.  One,  a  very  intelligent  fellow, 
had  been  very  much  trusted  by  his  master,  and  had 
accompanied  him  to  various  parts  of  the  South.  I 
asked  him  the  question  :  "Is  it  true  that  there  are 
a  considerable  number  of  slaves  who  would  prefer  to 
remain  in  their  present  condition  to  becoming  free  ?  " 


232  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

"  Nebber  see  any  such  niggers,  Massa,"  he  answer 
ed,  shaking  his  head  decisively.  "  We  all  want  to  be 
free.  My  old  massa  treated  me  kindly,  but  I'd  a 
left  him  any  minute  to  be  my  own  man." 

I  hope  the  time  will  soon  come,  when,  from 
Canada  to  the  Gulf,  there  will  not  be  a  single  black 
who  is  not  his  own  man.  We  in  the  army  are  doing 
what  we  can,  but  we  must  be  backed  up  by  those 
who  stay  at  home.  My  own  feeling  is  that  slavery 
has  received  its  death-blow.  It  may  continue  to  live 
for  some  years,  but  it  has  fallen  from  its  pomp  and 
pride  of  place.  It  is  tottering  to  its  fall.  What 
shall  be  done  with  the  negroes  in  the  transition  state 
will  be  a  problem  for  statesmen  to  consider.  I  don't 
think  we  need  fear  the  consequences  of  doing  right, 
and  on  this  subject  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  wrhat 
is  right.  The  apparent  insensibility  and  brutish 
ignorance  which  we  find  among  some  of  the  slaves 
will  wear  away  under  happier  influences. 

There  is  a  little  fellow  of  perhaps  a  dozen  years 
who  comes  into  our  camp  and  runs  of  errands  and 
does  little  services  for  the  men.  Yesterday  morning 
he  came  to  my  tent,  and  with  a  grin,  said  to  me, 
"  De  ol'  man  died  last  night." 

"  What,  your  father?"  I  inquired  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  Massa,"  with  another  grin :  "  Goin'  to 
tote  him  offdis  mornin." 

As  he  only  lived  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  I  got  per 
mission  to  go  over  to  the  house,  or  cabin  where  Scip'a 
father  had  lived. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         233 

The  outer  door  was  open,  and  I  entered  without 
knocking.  A  woman  was  bending  over  a  washtub 
at  the  back  part  of  the  room.  I  looked  around  me 
for  the  body  but  could  see  no  indication  of  anything 
having  happened  out  of  the  ordinary  course. 

I  thought  it  possible  that  Scip  had  deceived  me, 
and  accordingly  spoke  to  the  woman,  inquiring  if  she 
was  Scip's  mother. 

She  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

*  *  And  where  is  his  father  ?  "  I  next  inquired. 

"  O  he's  done  dead,"  she  said,  contintiing  her 
washing. 

"  When  did  he  die?" 
"  Las'  night,  Massa." 

*  *  And  where  is  the  body  ?  " 

"  Toted  off  Massa,  very  first  t'ing  dis  mornin." 
In  spite  of  this  case  of  apparent  insensibility, 
the  negro's  family  attachments  are  quite  as  warm 
naturally  as  our  own.  They  have  little  reason,  in 
deed,  to  mourn  over  the  loss  of  a  husband  or  father, 
since,  in  most  cases,  it  is  the  only  portal  to  the  freedom 
which  they  covet.  The  separation  of  families,  too, 
tends  of  course  to  weaken  family  ties.  While  I  write 
these  words  I  cannot  help  recalling  our  own  happy 
home,  and  longing  for  an  hour,  if  no  more,  of  your 
society.  I  am  glad  that  you  find  Mr.  Morton  so 
agreeable  an  inmate.  Ycu  ought  to  feel  quite  in 
debted  to  him  for  his  assistance  in  your  studies.  I 
am  glad  you  have  formed  a  boys'  company.  It  10 
20* 


234  FRANK'S   CAMPAIGN. 

very  desirable  that  the  elements  of  military  science 
should  be  understood  even  by  boys,  since  upon 
them  must  soon  devolve  the  defence  of  their  country 
from  any  blows  that  may  be  directed  against  her, 
whether  by  foes  from  within  or  enemies  from  abroad. 

The  coming  season  will  be  a  busy  one  with  you. 
When  you  receive  this  letter  it  will  be  about  time  fur 
you  to  begin  to  plough  whatever  land  is  to  be  planted. 
As  I  suggested  in  my  first  letter  from  camp,  I  should 
like  you  to  devote  some  space  —  perhaps  half  an  acre 
—  to  the  culture  of  onions.  We  find  them  very  use 
ful  for  promoting  health  in  the  army.  They  are 
quite  high  on  account  of  the  largely  increased  de 
mand,  so  that  it  will  be  a  good  crop  for  financial 
reasons. 

(Here  followed  some  directions  with  regard  to  the 
spring  planting,  which  we  omit,  as  not  likely  to  in 
terest  our  readers.)  The  letter  ended  thus  :  — 

It  is  nearly  time  for  me  to  mail  this  letter,  and 
it  is  already  much  longer  than  I  intended  to  write. 
May  God  keep  you  all  in  health  and  happiness  is  the 

fervent  wish  of, 

Your  affectionate  father, 

HENRY  FROST. 

The  intelligence  that  their  father  had  been  a 
prisoner  made  quite  a  sensation  among  the  children. 
Charlie  declared  that  Mrs.  Roberts  was  a  wicked 
woman,  and  he  was  glad  she  was  put  in  prison  —  an 
expression  of  joy  in  which  the  rest  fully  participated. 


xxvn. 

POMP'S   LIGHT   INFANTRY    TACTICS. 

LITTLE  Pomp  continued  to  pursue  his  studies 
under  Frank  as  a  teacher.  By  degrees  his  restlessness 
diminished,  and  finding  Frank  firm  in  exacting  a  cer 
tain  amount  of  study  before  he  would  dismiss  him,  he 
concluded  that  it  was  best  to  study  in  earnest,  and  so 
obtain  the  courted  freedom  as  speedily  as  possible. 
Frank  had  provided  for  his  use  a  small  chair,  which 
he  had  himself  used  when  at  Pomp's  age,  but  for  this 
the  little  contraband  showed  no  great  liking.  He  pre 
ferred  to  throw  himself  on  a  rug  before  the  open  fire 
place,  and  curling  up,  not  unlike  a  cat,  began  to  pore 
over  his  primer. 

Frank  often  looked  up  from  his  own  studies,  and 
looked  down  with  an  amused  glance  at  little  Pomp's 
coal-black  face  and  glistening  eyes  riveted  upon  the 
book  before  him.  There  was  no  lack  of  brightness 
or  intelligence  in  the  earnest  face  of  his  young  pupil. 
He  seemed  to  be  studying  with  all  his  might.  In  a 
wonderfully  short  time  he  would  uncoil  himself,  and- 
coming  to  his  teacher  would  say,  "  I  guess  I  can  say 
it,  Mass'  Frank." 

Finding  how  readily  Pomp  learned   his  lessons, 


FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

Frank  judiciously  lengthened  them,  so  that  in  two 
or  three  months,  Pomp  could  read  words  of  one 
syllable  with  considerable  ease,  and  promised  very 
soon  to  read  as  well  as  most  boys  of  his  age. 

Frank  also  took  considerable  pains  to  cure  Pomp 
of  his  mischievous  propensities,  but  this  he  found  a 
more  difficult  task  than  teaching  him  to  read.  Pomp 
had  an  innate  love  of  fun  which  seemed  almost  irre 
pressible,  and  his  convictions  of  duty  sat  too  lightly 
upon  him  to  interfere  very  seriously  with  its  gratifi 
cation.  One  adventure  into  which  he  was  led  came 
near  having  serious  consequences. 

Pomp,  in  common  with  other  village  boys  of  his 
age,  had  watched  with  considerable  interest  the  boys' 
company,  as  they  drilled  publicly  or  paraded  through 
the  main  street,  and  he  had  conceived  a  strong 
desire  to  get  hold  of  a  musket,  to  see  if  he  too  could 
not  go  through  with  the  manual. 

Frank  generally  put  his  musket  carefully  away, 
only  bringing  it  out  when  it  was  needful.  One 
morning,  however,  he  had  been  out  on  a  hunting 
expedition,  and  on  his  return  left  the  musket  in  the 
corner  of  the  shed. 

Pomp  espied  it  when  he  entered  the  house,  and 
resolved,  if  possible,  to  take  temporary  possession  of 
it  after  his  lesson  was  over.  Having  this  in  view, 
he  worked  with  an  uncommon  degree  of  industry, 
and  in  less  time  than  usual,  had  learned  and  said  his 
lesson. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        237 

"  Very  well,  P:>mp,"  said  his  teacher,  approvingly. 
"  You  have  worked  unusually  well  to-day.  If  you 
keep  on  you  will  make  quite  a  scholar  some  day." 

"I'se  improvin',  isn't  I?"  inquired  Pomp,  with 
an  appearance  of  interest. 

*'  Yes,  Pomp,  you  have  improved  rapidly.  By 
and  by  you  can  teach  your  mother  how  to  read." 

"  She  couldn't  learn,  Mass'  Frank.     She's  poor 


ignorant  nigger." 


"  You  shouldn't  speak  so  of  your  mother,  Pomp. 
She's  a  good  mother  to  you,  and  works  hard  to  earn 
money  to  support  you." 

"  Yes,  Mass'  Frank,"  said  Pomp, who  was  getting 
impatient  to  go.  "I  guess  I'll  go  home  and  help 
her." 

Frank  thought  that  what  he  had  said  was  producing 
a  good  effect.  He  did  not  know  the  secret  of  Pomp's 
haste. 

Pomp  left  the  room,  and  proceeding  to  the  wood 
shed,  hastily  possessed  himself  of  the  musket.  In  a 
stealthy  manner  he  crept  jrith  it  through  a  field  behind 
the  house,  until  he  got  into  the  neighboring  woods. 

He  found  it  a  hard  tug  to  carry  the  gun,  which 
was  heavier  than  those  made  at  the  present  day.  At 
length  he  reached  an  open  space  in  the  woods,  only 
a  few  rods  from  the  road  which  led  from  the  farm 
house,  past  the  shanty  occupied  by  old  Chloe.  As 
this  road  was  not  much  travelled,  Pomp  felt  pretty 
safe  from  discovery,  and  accordingly  here  it  was  that 


238  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

he  halted,  and  made  preparations  to  go  through  the 
manual. 

"  It  begins  dis  yer  way,"  said  Pomp,  after  a  little 
reflection. 

Grasping  the  musket  with  one  hand  he  called  out 
in  an  important  tone  :  — 

"'Tendon  squab!  " 

For  the  benefit  of  the  uninitiated  it  may  be  ex 
plained  that  Pomp  meant  "  Attention,  squad  !  " 

"  S'port  arras  !" 

Pomp  found  it  considerably  easier  to  give  the  word 
of  command  than  to  obey  it.  With  some  difficulty 
he  succeeded  in  accomplishing  this  movement,  and 
proceeded  with  the  manual,  with  several  original 
variations  which  would  have  astonished  a  military 
instructor. 

Meanwhile,  though  Pomp  did  not  realize  it,  he 
was  exposing  himself  to  considerably  danger.  The 
gun  had  been  loaded  with  buckshot  in  the  morning, 
and  the  charge  had  not  been  withdrawn. 

It  seemed  to  be  the  lot  of  poor  Mrs.  Payson  to 
suffer  frio-ht  or  disaster  whenever  she  encountered 

O 

Pomp,  and  this  memorable  afternoon  was  to  make 
no  exception  to  the  rule. 

"  Cynthy  Ann, '  she  said  to  her  daughter,  in  the 
afternoon,  *'  I  guess  I'll  go  and  spend  the  arternoon 
with  Mis'  Forbes.  I  haint  been  to  see  her  for  nigh 
a  month,  and  I  calc'late  she'll  be  glad  to  see  me. 
Besides,  she  ginerally  bakes  Thursdays,  an'  moa 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        239 

likely  she '11  have  some  hot  gingerbread.  I'm  par- 
tic'larly  fond  of  gingerbread,  an'  she  does  know  how 
to  make  it  about  the  best  of  anybody  I  know  on. 
You  needn't  wait  supper  for  me,  Cynthy  Ann.  for 
ef  I  don't  find  Mis'  Forbes  to  home  I  '11  go  on  to  Mis' 
Frost's." 

Mrs.  Payson  put  on  her  cloak  and  hood,  and 
armed  with  the  workbag  and  the  invariable  blue 
cotton  umbrella,  sallied  out.  Mrs.  Forbes  lived  at 
the  distance  of  a  mile,  but  Mrs.  Payson  was  a  good 
walker  for  a  woman  of  her  age,  and  less  than  half 
an  hour  brought  her  to  the  door  of  the  brown  farm 
house  in  which  Mrs.  Forbes  lived. 

She  knocked  on  the  door  with  the  handle  of  her 
umbrella.  The  summons  was  answered  by  a  giyl  of 
twelve. 

"  How  dy  do,  Betsy?"  said  Mrs.  Payson.  "  Is 
your  ma'am  to  home  ?  " 

"No,  she  's  gone  over  to  Webbington  to  spend  two 
or  three  days  witli  aunt  Prudence." 

"  Then  she  won't  be  home  to  tea,"  said  Mrs.  Pay- 
son,  considerably  disappointed. 

"]STo  ma'am,  I  don't  expect  her  before  to-mor 
row." 

"  Well,  I  declare  for't,  I  am  disapp'inted,"  said 
the  old  lady,  regretfully.  "I've  walked  a  mile  on 
puppus  to  see  her.  I  'm  most  tuckered  out." 

*  *  Won't  you  step  in  and  sit  down  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  keer  ef  I  do  a  few  minutes.     I 


240 


feel  like  to  drop.     Do  you  do  the  cooking  while  your 


ma'am 's  gone  ?  " 


"No,  she  baked  up  enough  to  last  before  she 
went  away." 

* '  You  haint  got  any  gingerbread  in  the  house  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Payson,  with  subdued  eagerness.  "I 
always  did  say  Mis'  Forbes  beat  the  world  at  maldn' 
gingerbread." 

"I'm  very  sorry,  Mrs.  Payson,  but  we  ate  the 
last  for  supper  last  night." 

"  O  dear  !  "  sighed  the  old  lady,  "  I  feel  sort  of 
faint,  —  kinder  gone  at  the  stomach.  I  did  n't  have 
no  appetite  at  dinner,  and  I  s'pose  it  don't  agree  with 
me  walkin'  so  fur  on  an  empty  stomach." 

"  Could  n't  you  eat  a  piece  of  pie?  "  asked  Betsy, 
sympathizingly. 

"  Well,"  said  the  old  lady,  reflectively,  "  I  don't 
know  but  I  could  eat  jest  a  bite.  But  you  need  n't 
trouble  yourself.  I  hate  to  give  trouble  to  any 
body." 

"  O,  it  won't  be  any  trouble,"  said  Betsy,  cheer 
fully. 

"  And  while  you're  about  it,"  added  Mrs.  Payson, 
* '  ef  you  have  got  any  of  that  cider  you  give  me 
when  I  was  here  before,  I  don't  know  but  I  could 
worry  down  a  little  of  it." 

"  Yes,  we've  got  plenty.  I  '11  bring  it  in  with  the 
pie." 

"  Well,"  murmured  the  old  lady,  "I'll  get  some- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         241 

thing  for  my  trouble.     I  guess  I  '11  go  and  take  sup 
per  at  Mis'  Frost's  a'terwards." 

Betsy  brought  in  a  slice  of  apple  and  one  of  pump 
kin  pie,  and  set  them  down  before  the  old  lady.  In 
addition  she  brought  a  generous  mug  of  cider. 

The  old  lady's  eyes  brightened,  as  she  saw  this 
substantial  refreshment. 

"  You're  a  good  gal,  Betsy,"  she  said  in  the  over 
flow  of  her  emotions.  "  I  was  saying  to  ftiy  darter 
yesterday  that  I  wish  all  the  gals  round  her  was  as 
good  and  considerate  as  you  be." 

"  O  no,  Mrs.  Payson,"  said  Betsy,  modestly.  "  I 
ain't  any  better  than  girls  generally." 

"Yes  you  be.  There's  my  granddarter  Jane, 
ain't  so  respectful  as  she  'd  arter  be  to  her  old  grand- 
ma'am.  I  often  tell  her  that  when  she  gets  to  have 
children  of  her  own,  she  '11  know  what  tis  to  be  a 
pilgrim  an'  a  sojourner  on  the  arth  without  nobody 
to  consider  her  feelin's.  Your  cider  is  putty  good. 
(Here  the  old  lady  took  a  large  draught,  and  set 
down  the  mug  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction.)  It  'a  jest 
the  thing  to  take  when  a  body  's  tired.  It  goes  to 
the  right  spot.  Cynthy  Ann's  husband  did  n't  have 
none  made  this  year.  I  wonder  ef  your  ma  would 
sell  a  quart  or  two  of  it." 

"  You  can  have  it  and  welcome,  Mrs  Payson." 

"  Can  I  jest  as  well  as  not?  Well,  that's  kind. 
But  1  did  n't  expect  you  to  give  it  to  me." 

"  O  we  have  got  plenty." 
21 


242  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

"  I  dunno  how  I  can  carry  it  home,''  said  the  old 
lady  hesitatingly.  I  wonder  ef  some  of  your  folks 
won't  be  going  up  our  way  within  a  day  or  two." 

"  We  will  send  it.  I  guess  father  '11  be  going  up 
to-morrow." 

4 '  Then  ef  you  can  spare  it  you  might  send  round 
a  gallon,  an'  cf  there 's  anything  to  pay  I  '11  pay 
for't." 

This  little  business  arrangement  being  satisfac 
torily  adjusted,  and  the  pie  consumed,  Mrs.  Payson 
got  up  and  said  she  must  be  going. 

"I'm  afraid  you  haven't  got  rested  yet,  Mrs. 
Payson." 

"  I  ain't  hardly,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  but  I  guess  I 
shall  stop  on  the  way  at  Mis'  Frost's.  Tell  your  ma 
I  '11  come  up  an'  see  her  ag'in  afore  long." 

"  Yes  ma'am." 

*  *  An'  you  won't  forget  to  send  over  that  cider  ?  " 

"  No  ma'am." 

"I'm  ashamed  to  trouble  ye,  but  their  ain't  any- 

iy "  body  over  to  our  house  that  I  can  send.      There 's 

Tom    grudges    doin'    anything   for    his    old    grand- 

V>' 4^ /\ma'am-     A'ter    all  that  I  do   for  him^too!     Good 

e\Hy!" 

The  old  lady  set  out  on  her  way  to  Mrs.  Frost's. 
Her  road  lay  through  the  woods,  where  an  unfor- 
eeen  danger  lay  in  wait  for  her. 

Meanwhile,  Pomp  was  pursuing  military  science 
nnder  difficulties.     The  weight  of  the  musket  made 
k'^ 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         243 

it  very  awkward  for  him  to  handle.  Several  times 
he  got  out  of  patience  with  it,  and  apostrophized  it  in 
terms  far  from  complimentary.  At  last  in  one  of  his 
awkward  manoeuvres,  he  accidentally  pulled  the  trig 
ger.  Instantly  there  was  a  loud  report,  followed  by 
a  piercing  shriek  from  the  road.  The  charge  had 
entered  old  Mrs.  Payson's  umbrella  and  knocked  it 
out  of  her  hand.  The  old  lady  fancied  herself  hit, 
and  fell  backwards,  kicking  energetically,  and 
screaming  "  murder"  at  the  top  of  her  lungs. 

The  musket  had  done  double  execution.  It  was 
too  heavily  loaded,  and  as  it  went  off,  '  kicked,' 
leaving  Pomp,  about  as  scared  as  the  old  lady, 
sprawling  on  the  ground. 

Henry  Morton  was  only  a  few  rods  off  when  he 
heard  the  explosion.  He  at  once  ran  to  the  old 
lady's  assistance,  fancying  her  hurt.  She  shrieked 
the  louder  on  his  approach,  imagining  that  he  was 
a  robber,  and  had  fired  at  her. 

"  Go  away  ! "  she  cried,  in  affright.  "  I  ain't  got 
any  money.  I  'm  a  poor,  destitute  widder  !  " 

' '  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Mor 
ton,  somewhat  amazed  at  this  mode  of  address. 

"  Ain't  you  a  highwayman?"  asked  the  old  lady. 

1 '  If  you  look  at  me  close  I  think  you  will  be  able 
to  answer  that  question  for  yourself." 

The  old  lady  cautiously  rose  to  a  sitting  posture, 
and,  mechanically  adjusting  her  spectacles,  took  a 
good  look  at  the  young  man. 


244  THANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"  "Why,  I  declare  for  it,  ef  it  ain't  Mr.  Morton ! 
I  thought  'twas  you  that  fired  at  me." 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  hurt,"  said  Mr.  Morton, 
finding  a  difficulty  in  preserving  his  gravity. 

"  I  dunno,"  said  the  old  lady,  dubiously,  pulling 
up  her  sleeve,  and  examining  her  arm.  "  I  don't 
see  nothin  ;  but  I  expect  I  've  had  some  injury  to  my 
innards.  I  feel  as  ef  I  'd  had  a  shock  somewhere. 
Do  you  think  he'll  fire  again?"  she  asked,  with  sud 
den  alarm. 

"  You  need  not  feel  alarmed,"  was  the  soothing 
reply.  "  It  was  no  doubt  an  accident." 

Turning  suddenly,  he  espied  Pomp  peering  from 
behind  a  tree,  with  eyes  and  mouth  wide  open.  The 
little  contraband  essayed  a  hasty  flight ;  but  Mr. 
Morton,  by  a  masterly  flank  movement,  came  upon 
him,  and  brought  forward  the  captive  kicking  and 
struggling. 

"  Le'  me  go  !  "  said  Pomp.    "  I  ain't  done  noffin  !  " 

"  Did  n't  you  fire  a  gun  at  this  lady  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Pomp,  boldly.  "Wish  I  may  be 
killed  ef  I  did  !  " 

* '  I  know  't  was  you  —  you  —  you  imp  !  "  ex 
claimed  Mrs.  Pay  son,  in  violent  indignation.  "  I 
seed  you  do  it.  You're  the  wust  boy  that  ever 
lived,  and  you'll  be  hung  jest  as  sure  as  I  stan* 
here  ! " 

"How  did  it  happen,  Pomp?"  asked  Mr.  Mor 
ton,  quietly. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         245 

"  It  jest  shooted  itself  I  "  said  Pomp,  in  whom  the 
old  lady's  words  inspired  a  vague  feeling  of  alarm. 
"  I  'clare  to  gracious,  Mass'  Morton,  it  did  !  " 

"  Didn't  you  have  the  gun  in  your  hand,  Pomp? 
Where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  I  jest  borrered  it  of  Mass' Frank,  to  play  sojer 
a  little  while,"  said  Pomp,  reluctantly. 

*  *  Does  he  know  that  you  have  got  it  ?  " 

"  I  'clare  I  done  forgot  to  tell  him,"  said  Pomp, 
reluctantly. 

'  *  Will  you  promise  never  to  touch  it  again  ?  " 

"  Don't  want  to  !  "  ejaculated  Pomp,  adding,  spite 
fully,  "  He  kick  me  over  !  " 

"  I'm  glad  on't,"  said  the  old  lady,  emphatically, 
with  a  grim  air  of  satisfaction.  "  That  '11  1'arn  you 
to  fire  it  off  at  your  elders  ag'in.  I  've  a  great  mind 
to  box  your  ears,  and  sarve  you  right,  too." 

Mrs.  Pay  son  advanced,  to  effect  her  purpose  ;  but 
Pomp  was  wary,  and,  adroitly  freeing  himself  from 
Mr.  Morton's  grasp,  butted  at  the  old  lady  with 
such  force  that  she  would  have  fallen  backwards  but 
for  the  timely  assistance  of  Mr.  Morton,  who  sprang 
to  her  side.  Her  bag  fell  to  the  ground,  and  she 
struggled  to  regain  her  lost  breath. 

"  Oh ! "  groaned  the  old  lady,  gasping  for  breath, 
"  he's  mos'  knocked  the  breath  out  of  me.     I  shan't 
live  long  a'ter  such  a  shock.     I'm  achin'  all  over. 
Why  did  you  let  him  do  it  ?  " 
21* 


246  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

"  He  was  too  quick  for  me,  Mrs.  Payson.  I  hope 
you  feel  better." 

"I  dunno  as  I  shall  ever  feel  any  better,"  said 
Mrs.  Payson,  gloomily.  "  If  Cynthy  Ann  only 
knew  how  her  poor  old  ma'am  had  been  treated  I 
I  dunno  as  I  shall  live  to  get  home  !  " 

"  O  yes  you  will,"  said  the  young  man,  cheer 
fully.  "  and  live  to  see  a  good  many  years  more. 
Would  you  like  to  have  me  attend  you  home  ?  " 

"I  ain't  got  strength  to  go  so  fur,"  said  Mrs. 
Payson,  who  had  not  given  up  her  plan  of  taking 
tea  out.  "I  guess  I  could  get  as  fur  as  Mis' 
Frost's,  an'  mebbe  some  on  you  will  tackle  up  an' 
carry  me  back  to  Cynthy  Ann's  a'ter  tea." 

Arrived  at  the  farm-house,  Mrs.  Payson  indulged 
in  a  long  detail  of  grievances ;  but  it  was  observed 
that  they  did  not  materially  affect  her  appetite  at  tea. 

The  offending  musket  was  found  by  Frank  under 
a  tree,  where  Pomp  had  dropped  it  when  it  went  off. 


XXVIII. 

JOHN   HAYNES   HAS   A   NARROW    ESCAPE. 

JOHN  HAYNES  found  the  time  hang  heavily  upon 
nis  hands  after  his  withdrawal  from  the  boys  volun 
teer  company.  All  the  boys  with  whom  he  had  been 
accustomed  to  associate  belonged  to  it,  and  in  their 
interest  could  talk  of  nothing  else.  To  him,  on  the 
contrary,  it  was  a  disagreeable  subject.  In  the 
pleasant  spring  days  the  company  came  out  twice  a 
week,  and  went  through  company  drill  on  the  Com 
mon,  under  the  command  of  Frank,  or  Captain 
Frost,  as  he  was  now  called. 

Had  Frank  shown  himself  incompetent,  and  made 
himself  ridiculous  by  blunders,  it  would  have  afforded 
John  satisfaction.  But  Frank,  thorough  in  all  things, 
had  so  carefully  prepared  himself  for  his  duties  that 
he  never  made  a  mistake,  and  always  acquitted  him 
self  so  creditably  and  with  such  entire  self-possession, 
that  his  praises  were  in  every  mouth. 

Dick  Bumstead,  too,  manifested  an  ambition  to  fill 
his  second  lieutenancy,  to  which,  so  much  to  his  own 
surprise  he  had  been  elected,  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
justify  the  Company  in  their  choice.  In  this  he  fully 


248  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

succeeded.  He  had  become  quite  a  different  boj 
from  what  he  was  when  we  first  made  his  acquaint 
ance.  He  had  learned  to  respect  himself,  and  per 
ceived  with  great  satisfaction  that  he  was  generally 
respected  by  the  boys.  He  no  longer  attempted  to 
shirk  his  work  in  the  shop,  and  his  father  now  spoke 
of  him  with  complacency,  instead  of  complaint  as 
formerly. 

"  Yes,"  said  he  one  day,  "  Dick's  a  good  boy. 
He  was  always  smart,  but  rather  fly-a-way.  I 
could  n't  place  any  dependence  upon  him  once,  but  it 
is  not  so  now.  I  could  n't  wish  for  a  better  b'  y. 
I  don't  know  what  has  come  over  him,  but  I  hope 
it  '11  last." 

Dick  happened  to  overhear  his  father  speaking 
thus  to  a  neighbor,  and  he  inly  determined  with  a 
commendable  feeling  of  pride,  that  the  change  that 
had  given  his  father  so  much  pleasure  should  last. 
It  does  a  boy  good  to  know  that  his  efforts  are  ap 
preciated.  In  this  case  it  had  a  happy  effect  upon 
Dick,  who,  I  am  glad  to  say,  kept  his  resolution. 

It  has  been  mentioned  that  John  was  the  possessor 
of  a  boat.  Finding  one  great  source  of  amusement 
cut  off,  and  being  left  very  much  to  himself,  he  fell 
back  upon  this,  and  nearly  every  pleasant  afternoon 
he  might  be  seen  rowing  on  the  river  above  the  dam. 
He  was  obliged  to  confine  himself  to  this  part  of  the 
river,  since,  in  the  part  below  the  dam,  the  water 
was  too  shallow. 


THE  FAKM  AND  THE  CAMP.        249 

There  is  one  great  drawback,  however,  upon  the 
pleasure  of  owning  a  row-boat.  It  is  tiresome  to 
row  single-handed  after  a  time.  So  John  found  it, 
and  not  being  over  fond  of  active  exertion  he  was 
beginning  to  get  weary  of  this  kind  of  amusement 
when  all  at  once  a  new  plan  was  suggested  to  him. 
This  was,  to  rig  up  a  mast  and  sail,  and  thus  obviate 
the  necessity  of  rowing. 

No  sooner  had  this  plan  suggested  itself  than  he 
hastened  to  put  it  into  execution.  His  boat  was 
large  enough  to  bear  a  small  mast,  so  there  was  no 
difficulty  on  that  head.  He  engaged  the  village 
carpenter  to  effect  the  desired  change.  He  did 
not  choose  to  consult  his  father  on  the  subject, 
fearing  that  he  might  make  some  objection  either  on 
score  of  safety  or  expense,  while  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  have  his  own  way. 

When  it  was  finished,  and  the  boat  with  its  slender 
mast  and  white  sail  floated  gently  on  the  quiet  bosom 
of  the  stream,  John's  satisfaction  was  unbounded. 

"  You've  got  a  pretty  boat,"  said  Mr.  Plane,  the 
carpenter.  I  suppose  you  know  how  to  manage  it  ?  " 
he  added,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,"  answered  John,  carelessly,  "  I've  been  in 
a  sail-boat  before  to-day." 

Mr.  Plane's  doubts  were  set  at  rest  by  John's  con 
fident  manner,  and  he  suppressed  the  caution  which 
he  had  intended  to  give  him.  It  made  little  differ 
ence,  however,  for  John  was  headstrong,  and  would 


250  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

have  been  pretty  certain  to  disregard  whatever  he 
might  say. 

It  was  true  that  this  was  not  the  first  time  Jolm 
had  been  in  a  sail-boat ;  but  if  not  the  first,  it  was 
only  the  second.  The  first  occasion  had  been  three 
years  previous,  and  at  that  time  he  had  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  management  of  the  boat,  —  a  very 
important  matter.  It  was  in  John's  nature  to  be  over 
confident,  and  he  thought  he  understood  merely  from 
observation  exactly  how  a  boat  ought  to  be  managed. 
As  we  shall  see,  he  found  out  his  mistake. 

The  first  day  after  his  boat  was  ready  John  was 
greatly  disappointed  that  there  was  no  wind.  The 
next  day,  as  if  to  make  up  for  it,  the  wind  was  very 
strong.  Had  John  possessed  a  particle  of  prudence 
he  would  have  seen  that  it  was  no  day  to  venture  out 
in  a  sail-boat.  But  he  was  not  in  the  habit  of  curb 
ing  his  impatience,  and  he  determined  that  he  would 
not  wait  till  another  day.  Pie  decided  that  it  was  a 
mere  "  capful  of  wind,"  and  would  be  all  the  better 
for  the  purpose. 

"  It's  a  tip-top  wind.  Won't  it  make  my  boat 
ecud ;  "  he  said  to  himself  exultantly,  as  he  took  his 
place,  and  pushed  off  from  shore. 

Henry  Morton  had  been  out  on  a  walk,  and  from 
the  summit  of  a  little  hill  near  the  river-bank  espied 
John  pushing  off  in  his  boat. 

"  He  '11  be  sure  to  capsize,"  thought  the  young 
man  in  alarm.  "  Even  if  he  is  used  to  a  sail-boat 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        251 

he  is  very  imprudent  to  put  out  in  such  a  wind ;  I 
will  hurry  down  and  save  him  if  I  can." 

He  hurried  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  reaching  it 
out  of  breath. 

John  was  by  this  time  some  distance  out.  The 
wind  had  carried  him  along  finely,  the  boat  scudding, 
as  he  expressed  it.  He  was  congratulating  himself 
on  the  success  of  his  trial  trip,  when  all  at  once  a  flaw 
struck  the  boat.  Not  being  a  skilful  boatman  he 
was  wholly  unprepared  for  it,  and  the  boat  upset. 

Struggling  in  terror  and  confusion,  John  struck  out 
for  the  shore.  But  he  was  not  much  of  a  swimmer, 
and  the  suddenness  of  the  accident  had  unnerved  him, 
and  deprived  him  of  his  self-possession.  The  cur 
rent  of  the  river  was  rapid,  and  he  would  inevitably 
have  drowned  but  for  the  opportune  assistance  of  Mr. 
Morton. 

The  young  man  had  no  sooner  seen  the  boat  cap 
size,  than  he  flung  off  his  coat  and  boots,  and, 
plunging  into  the  river,  swam  vigorously  towards 
the  imperilled  boy. 

Luckily  for  John,  Mr.  Morton  was,  though  of 
slight  frame,  muscular,  and  an  admirable  swimmer. 
He  reached  him  just  as  John's  strokes  were  becoming 
feebler  and  feebler ;  he  was  about  to  give  up  his 
unequal  struggle  with  the  waves. 

"  Take  hold  of  me,"  he  said.  "  Have  courage, 
and  I  will  save  you." 

John  seized  him  with  the  firm  grip  of  a  drowning 


252  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

person,  and  nearly  prevented  him  from  striking  out. 
But  Mr.  Morton's  strength  served  him  in  good  stead  ; 
and,  notwithstanding  the  heavy  burden,  he  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  bank  in  safety,  though  with  much 
exhaustion. 

John  no  sooner  reached  the  bank  than  he  fainted 
away.  The  great  danger  which  he  had  just  escaped, 
added  to  his  own  efforts,  had  proved  too  much  for 
him. 

Mr.  Morton,  fortunately,  knew  how  to  act  in  such 
emergencies.  By  the  use  of  the  proper  remedies, 
he  was  fortunately  brought  to  himself,  and  his  pre 
server  offered  to  accompany  him  home.  John  still 
felt  giddy,  and  was  glad  to  accept  Mr.  Morton's 
offer.  He  knew  that  his  father  would  be  angry  with 
him  for  having  the  boat  fitted  up  without  his  knowl 
edge,  especially  as  he  had  directed  Mr.  Plane  to 
charge  it  to  his  father's  account.  Supposing  that 
Squire  Haynes  approved,  the  carpenter  made  no  ob 
jections  to  doing  so.  But  even  the  apprehension  of 
his  father's  anger  was  swallowed  up  by  the  thought 
of  the  great  peril  from  which  he  had  just  escaped, 
and  the  discomfort  of  the  wet  clothes  which  he  had 
on. 

Mr.  Morton,  too,  was  completely  wet  through, 
with  the  exception  of  his  coat,  and  but  for  John's 
apparent  inability  to  go  home  alone,  would  at  once 
have  returned  to  his  boarding-place  to  exchange  his 
wet  clothes  for  dry  ones. 


THE  FAKM  AND  THE  CAMP.        253 

It  so  happened  that  Squire  Haynes  was  sitting  at 
a  front  window,  and  saw  Mr.  Morton  and  his  son  as 
they  entered  the  gate  and  came  up  the  gravelled 
walk.  He  had  never  met  Mr.  Morton,  and  was 
surprised  now  at  seeing  him  in  John's  company. 
He  had  conceived  a  feeling  of  dislike  to  the  young 
man,  for  which  he  could  not  account,  while  at  the 
same  time  he  felt  a  strong  curiosity  to  know  more  of 
him. 

When  they  came  nearer,  he  perceived  the  drenched 
garments,  and  went  to  the  door  himself  to  admit 
them. 

"  What's  the  matter,  John?"  he  demanded,  has 
tily,  with  a  contraction  of  the  eyebrows. 

"  I  'm  wet !  "  said  John,  shortly. 

"  It  is  easy  to  see  that.  But  how  came  you  so 
wet?" 

"I've  been  in  the  river,"  answered  John,  who  did 
not  seem  disposed  to  volunteer  any  particulars  of  his 
adventure. 

* '  How  came  you  there  ?  " 

"  Your  son's  boat  capsized,"  explained  Mr.  Mor 
ton  ;  "  and,  as  you  will  judge  from  my  appearance,  I 
jumped  in  after  him.  I  should  advise  him  to  change 
his  clothing,  or  he  will  be  likely  to  take  cold." 

Squire  Haynes  looked  puzzled. 

"  I  don't  see  how  a  large  row-boat  like  his  could 
capsize,"  he  said;  "he  must  have  been  very  care 
less." 


254  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"  It  was  a  sail-boat,"  explained  John,  rather  re» 
luctantly. 

"A  sail-boat  I     Whose  ?" 

'•Mine." 

"  I  don't  understand  at  all." 

"  I  had  a  mast  put  in,  and  a  sail  rigged  up,  two 
or  three  days  since,"  said  John,  compelled  at  last 
to  explain. 

*  *  Why  did  you  do  this  without  my  permission  ?  " 
demanded  the  Squire,  angrily. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Morton,  quietly,  "it  will 
be  better  to  postpone  inquiries  until  your  son  has 
changed  his  clothes. 

Squire  Haynes,  though  somewhat  irritated  by  thi» 
interference,  bethought  himself  that  it  would  be 
churlish  not  to  thank  his  son's  preserver. 

"  I  am  indebted  to  you,  sir,"  he  said,  "  for  your 
agency  in  saving  the  life  of  this  rash  boy.  I  regret 
that  you  should  have  got  wet." 

' '  I  shall  probably  experience  nothing  more  tlaan 
temporary  inconvenience." 

"  You  have  been  some  months  in  the  village,  I 
believe,  Mr.  Morton.  I  trust  you  will  call  at  an 
early  day,  and  enable  me  to  follow  up  the  chance 
which  has  made  us  acquainted." 

"  I  seldom  make  calls,"  said  Mr.  t  Morton,  in  a 
distant  tone.  *«  Yet,"  added  he,  after  a  pause,  "  I 
may  have  occasion  to  accept  your  invitation  some 
day.  Good  morning,  sir." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        255 

"  Good  morning,"  returned  the  Squire,  looking 
after  him  with  an  expression  of  perplexity. 

"He  boards  at  the  Frosts',  doesn't  he,  John?" 
asked  Squire  Haynes,  turning  to  his  son. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

' '  There  's  something  in  his  face  that  seems  famil 
iar,"  mused  the  Squire,  absently.  "  He  reminds  me 
of  somebody,  though  I  can't  recall  who." 

It  was  not  long  before  the  Squire's  memory  was 
refreshed,  and  he  obtained  clearer  information  re 
specting  the  young  man,  and  the  errand  which  had 
brought  him  to  Rossville.  When  that  information 
came,  it  was  so  far  from  pleasing  that  he  would 
willingly  have  postponed  it  indefinitely. 


XXIX. 

MR.  MORTON'S  STORY. 

THE  planting  season  was  over.  For  a  month  Frank 
had  worked  industriously,  in  conjunction  with  Jacob 
Carter.  His  father  had  sent  him  directions  so  full 
and  minute,  that  he  was  not  often  obliged  to  call  upon 
Farmer  Maynard  for  advice.  The  old  farmer  proved 
to  be  very  kind  and  obliging.  Jacob,  too,  was 
capable  and  faithful,  so  that  the  farm  work  went  on 
as  well  probably  as  if  Mr.  Frost  had  been  at  home. 

One  evening  towards  the  middle  of  June,  Frank 
walked  out  into  the  fields  with  Mr.  Morton.  The 
corn  and  potatoes  were  looking  finely.  The  garden 
vegetables  were  up,  and  to  all  appearance  doing 
well.  Frank  surveyed  the  scene  with  a  feeling  of 
natural  pride. 

* '  Don't  you  think  I  would  make  a  successful  far 
mer,  Mr.  Morton?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  Frank;  and  more  than  this,  I  think  you 
will  be  likely  to  succeed  in  any  other  vocation  you 
may  select." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  flattering  me,  Mr.  Mor 
ton." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        257 

"  Such  is  not  my  intention,  Frank,  but  I  like  to 
award  praise  where  I  think  it  due.  I  have  noticed 
in  you  a  disposition  to  be  faithful  to  whatever  respon 
sibility  is  imposed  upon  you,  and  wherever  I  see  that 
I  feel  no  hesitation  in  predicting  a  successful  career." 

44  Thank  you,"  said  Frank,  looking  very  much 
pleased  with  the  compliment.  "  I  try  to  be  faithful. 
I  feel  that  father  has  trusted  me  more  than  it  is  usual 
to  trust  boys  of  my  age,  and  I  want  to  show  myself 
worthy  of  his  confidence." 

"You  are  fortunate  in  having  a  father,  Frank," 
said  the  young  man,  with  a  shade  of  sadness  in  his 
voice.  "  My  father  died  before  I  was  of  your  age." 

"Do  you  remember  him?"  inquired  Frank,  with 
interest. 

"  I  remember  him  well.  He  was  always  kind  to 
me.  I  never  remember  to  have  received  a  harsh 
word  from  him.  It  is  because  he  was  so  kind  and 
indulgent  to  me  that  I  feel  the  more  incensed  against 
a  man  who  took  advantage  of  his  confidence  to  defraud 
him,  or  rather  me,  through  him." 

"You  have  never  mentioned  this  before,  Mr. 
Morton." 

"  No.  I  have  left  you  all  in  ignorance  of  much 
of  my  history.  This  morning,  if  it  will  interest  you, 
I  propose  to  take  you  into  my  confidence." 

The  eagerness  with  which  Frank  greeted  this  pro 
posal  showed   that  for  him  the  story  would  have  no 
lack  of  interest. 
22* 


258  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OK, 

"  Let  us  sit  down  under  this  tree,"  said  Henry 
Morton,  pointing  to  a  horse-chestnut,  whose  dense 
foliage  promised  a  pleasant  shelter  from  the  sun's  rays. 

They  threw  themselves  upon  the  grass,  and  he 
forthwith  commenced  his  story. 

"  My  father  was  born  in  Boston,  and  growing  up 
engaged  in  mercantile  pursuits.  He  was  moderately 
successful,  and  finally  accumulated  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  He  would  not  have  stopped  there,  for  he 
was  at  the  time  making  money  rapidly,  but  his  health 
became  precarious,  and  his  physician  required  him 
absolutely  to  give  up  business.  The  seeds  of  con 
sumption,  which  probably  had  been  lurking  for  years 
in  his  system,  had  begun  to  show  themselves  unmis 
takably,  and  required  immediate  attention. 

"  By  the  advice  of  his  physician  he  sailed  for  the 
West  India  Islands,  hoping  that  the  climate  might 
have  a  beneficial  effect  upon  him.  At  that  time  I  was 
twelve  years  old,  and  an  only  child.  My  mother 
had  died  some  years  before,  so  that  I  was  left  quite 
alone  in  the  world.  I  was  sent  for  a  time  to  Vir 
ginia,  to  my  mother's  brother,  who  possessed  a  large 
plantation  and  numerous  slaves.  Here  I  remained 
for  six  months.  You  will  remember  that  Aunt  Chloe 
recognized  me  at  first  sight.  You  will  not  be  sur 
prised  at  this  when  I  tell  you  that  she  was  my  uncle's 
slave,  and  that  as  a  boy  I  was  indebted  to  her  for 
many  a  little  favor  which  she,  being  employed  in  the 
kitchen,  was  able  to  render  me  As  I  told  you  at  the 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         259 

time,  my  real  name  is  not  Morton.  It  will  not  be 
long  before  you  understand  the  reason  of  my  con 
cealment. 

"  My  father  had  a  legal  adviser,  in  whom  he  re 
posed  a  large  measure  of  confidence,  though  events 
showed  him  to  be  quite  unworthy  of  it.  On  leaving 
Boston  he  divided  his  property,  which  had  been  con 
verted  into  money,  into  two  equal  portions.  One 
part  he  took  with  him.  The  other  he  committed  to 
the  lawyer's  charge.  So  much  confidence  had  he  in 
this  man's  honor,  that  he  did  not  even  require  a  re 
ceipt.  One  additional  safeguard  he  hud,  however. 
This  was  the  evidence  of  the  lawyer's  clerk,  who 
was  present  on  the  occasion  of  the  deposit. 

"  My  father  went  to  the  West  Indies,  but  the 
change  seemed  only  to  accelerate  the  progress  of  his 
malady.  He  lingered  for  a  few  months  and  then 
died.  Before  his  death  he  wrote  two  letters,  one  to 
my  uncle  and  one  to  myself.  In  these  he  communi 
cated  the  fact  of  his  having  deposited  twenty-five 
thousand  dollars  with  his  lawyer.  He  mentioned 
incidentally  the  presence  of  the  lawyer's  clerk  at  the 
time.  I  am  a  little  surprised  that  he  should  have 
done  it,  as  not  the  faintest  suspicion  of  the  lawyer's 
good  faith  had  entered  his  thoughts. 

"  On  receiving  this  letter  my  uncle,  on  my  behalf, 
took  measures  to  claim  this  sum,  and  for  this  purpose 
came  to  Boston.  Imagine  his  surprise  and  indigna 
tion  when  the  lawyer  positively  denied  having  re- 


260  PRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;   OK, 

cehred  any  such  deposit,  and  called  upon  Lim  to  prove 
it.  With  great  effrontery  he  declared  that  it  was 
absurd  to  suppose  that  my  father  would  have  entrust 
ed  him  with  any  such  sum  without  a  receipt  for  it. 
This  certainly  looked  plausible,  and  I  acknowledge 
that  few  except  my  father,  who  never  trusted  without 
trusting  entirely,  would  have  acted  so  imprudently. 

"  *  Where  is  the  clerk  who  was  in  your  office  at 
the  time?'  inquired  my  uncle. 

"  The  lawyer  looked  somewhat  discomposed  at 
this  question. 

««  «  Why  do  you  ask,'  he  inquired,  abruptly. 

"  '  Because,'  was  the  reply,  *  his  evidence  is  very 
important  to  us.  My  brother  states  that  he  was 
present  when  the  deposit  was  made.' 

"'I  don't  know  where  he  is,'  said  the  lawyer. 
*  He  was  too  dissipated  to  remain  in  my  office,  and 
I  accordingly  discharged  him.' 

* '  My  uncle  suspected  that  the  clerk  had  been 
bribed  to  keep  silence,  and  for  additional  security 
sent  off  to  some  distant  place. 

"  Nothing  could  be  done.  Strong  as  were  our 
suspicions,  and  absolute  as  was  our  conviction  of  the 
lawyer's  guilt,  we  had  no  resource.  But  from  that 
time  I  devoted  my  life  to  the  exposure  of  this  man. 
Fortunately  I  was  not  without  means.  The  other 
half  of  my  father's  property  came  to  me ;  and  the 
interest  being  considerably  more  than  I  required  for 
my  support,  I  have  devoted  the  remaindei  t/>  prose- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         261 

cuting  inquiries  respecting  the  missing  clerk.  Just 
before  I  came  to  Kossville,  I  obtained  a  clew  which  I 
have  since  industriously  followed  up. 

"  Last  night  I  received  a  letter  from  my  agent, 
stating  that  he  had  found  the  man,  — that  he  was  in 
a  sad  state  of  destitution,  and  that  he  was  ready  to 
give  his  evidence." 

"Is  the  lawyer  still  living?"  inquired  Frank, 
eagerly. 

"  He  is." 

"  What  a  villain  he  must  be." 

"  I  am  afraid  he  is,  Frank." 

"  Does  he  still  live  in  Boston?" 

"No.  After  he  had  made  sure  of  his  ill-gotten 
gains,  he  removed  into  the  country,  where  he  built 
him  a  fine  house.  He  has  been  able  to  live  a  life  of 
leisure ;  but  I  doubt  if  he  has  been  as  happy  as  he 
would  have  been  had  he  never  deviated  from  the  path 
of  rectitude." 

"  Have  you  seen  him  lately?"  asked  Frank. 

"  i  have  seen  him  many  times  within  the  last  few 
months,"  said  the  young  man,  in  a  significant  tone. 

Frank  jumped  to  his  feet  in  surprise.  "You 
don't  mean — "  he  said,  as  a  sudden  suspicion  of  the 
truth  dawned  upon  his  mind. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Morton,  deliberately,  "I  do 
mean  that  the  lawyer  who  defrauded  my  father  lives 
in  this  village.  You  know  him  well  as  Squire 
Haynes." 


262  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"I  can  hardly  believe  it,"  said  Frank,  unable  to 
conceal  his  astonishment.  "  Do  you  think  he  knows 
who  you  are  ?  " 

«'  I  think  he  has  noticed  my  resemblance  to  my 
father.  If  I  had  not  assumed  a  different  name  he 
would  have  been  sure  to  detect  me.  This  would 
have  interfered  with  my  plans,  as  he  undoubtedly 
knew  the  whereabouts  of  his  old  clerk,  and  would 
have  arranged  to  remove  him,  so  as  to  delay  hig 
discovery,  perhaps  indefinitely.  Here  is  the  letter  I 
received  last  night.  I  will  read  it  to  you." 

The  letter  ran  as  follows  :  — 

* '  I  have  at  length  discovered  the  man  of  whom  I 
have  so  long  been  in  search.  I  found  him  in  De 
troit.  He  had  recently  removed  thither  from  St. 
Louis.  lie  is  very  poor,  and  when  I  found  him  wa& 
laid  up  with  typhoid  fever  in  a  mean  lodging-house. 
I  removed  him  to  more  comfortable  quarters,  sup 
plied  him  with  relishing  food  and  good  medical  as 
sistance.  Otherwise  I  think  he  would  have  died. 
The  result  is,  that  he  feels  deeply  grateful  to  me 
for  having  probably  saved  his  life.  When  I  first 
broached  the  idea  of  his  snvin^  evidence  against  his 

o          o  ir> 

old  employer,  I  found  him  reluctant  to  do  so,  —  not 
from  any  attachment  he  bore  him,  but  from  a  fear 
that  he  would  be  held  on  a  criminal  charge  for  con 
cealing  a  felony.  I  have  undertaken  to  assure  him, 
on  your  behalf,  that  he  shall  not  be  punished  if  he 
will  come  forward  and  give  his  evidence  unhesitat- 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         263 

inglj.  I  have  finally  obtained  his  promise  to  do 
so. 

"  We  shall  leave  Detroit  day  after  to-morrow,  and 
proceed  to  New  England  by  way  of  New  York. 
Can  you  meet  me  in  New  York  on  the  18th  inst.  ? 
You  can,  in  that  case,  have  an  interview  with  this 
man,  Travers  ;  and  it  will  be  well  to  obtain  his  con 
fession,  legally  certified,  to  guard  against  any  vacil 
lation  of  purpose  on  his  part.  I  have  no  apprehen 
sion  of  it,  but  it  is  as  well  to  be  certain." 

This  letter  was  signed  by  Mr.  Morton's  agent. 

"  I  was  very  glad  to  get  that  letter,  Frank,"  said 
his  companion.  "  I  don't  think  I  care  so  much  for 
the  money,  though  that  is  not  to  be  despised,  since 
it  will  enable  me  to  do  more  good  than  at  present  I 
have  it  in  my  power  to  do.  But  there  is  one  thing 
I  care  for  still  more,  and  that  is,  to  redeem  my 
father's  memory  from  reproach.  In  the  last  letter 
he  ever  wrote  he  made  a  specific  statement,  which 
this  lawyer  declares  to  be  false.  The  evidence  of  his 
clerk  will  hurl  back  the  falsehood  upon  himself." 

"  How  strange  it  is,  Mr.  Morton,"  exclaimed 
Frank,  "  that  you  should  have  saved  the  life  of  a 
eon  of  the  man  who  has  done  so  much  to  injure 
you  ! " 

"  Yes,  that  gives  me  great  satisfaction.  I  do  not 
wish  Squire  Haynes  any  harm,  but  I  am  determined 
that  justice  shall  be  done.  Otherwise  than  that,  if  I 
can  be  of  any  service  to  him,  I  shall  not  refuse." 


264  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

"  I  remember  now,"  said  Frank,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  "  that  on  the  first  Sunday  you  appeared  at 
church,  Squire  Haynes  stopped  me  to  inquire  who 
you  were." 

"I  am  thought  to  look  much  as  my  father  did. 
He  undoubtedly  saw  the  resemblance.  I  have  often 
caught  his  eyes  fixed  upon  me  in  perplexity  when  he 
did  not  know  that  I  noticed  him.  It  is  fourteen 
years  since  my  father  died.  Retribution  has  been 
slow,  but  it  has  come  at  last." 

"  When  do  you  go  on  to  New  York?"  asked 
Frank,  recalling  the  agent's  request. 

"  I  shall  start  to-morrow  morning.  For  the 
present  I  will  ask  you  to  keep  what  I  have  said  a 
secret  even  from  your  good  mother.  It  is  as  well 
not  to  disturb  Squire  Haynes  in  his  fancied  security 
until  we  are  ready  to  overwhelm  him  with  our  evi 
dence." 

"  How  long  shall  you  be  absent,  Mr.  Morton?" 

"  Probably  less  than  a  week.  I  shall  merely  say 
that  I  have  gone  on  business.  I  trust  to  your  dis 
cretion  to  say  nothing  more." 

"  I  certainly  will  not,"  said  Frank.  "  I  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you  for  having  told  me  first." 

The  two  rose  from  their  grassy  seats,  and  walked 
slowly  back  to  the  farm-house. 


XXX, 

FRANK    CALLS   ON   SQUIRE   HAYNE8. 

THE  next  morning  Mr.  Morton  was  a  passenger 
by  the  early  stage  for  Webbington,  where  he  took  the 
train  for  Boston.  Thence  he  was  to  proceed  to  New 
York  by  the  steamboat  train. 

"  Good  by,  Mr.  Morton,"  said  Frank,  waving  his 
cap  as  the  stage  started.  "  I  hope  you'll  soon  be  back." 

"  I  hope  so  too  ;    good  by." 

Crack  went  the  whip,  round  went  the  wheels. 
The  horses  started,  and  the  stage  rumbled  ofF,  sway 
ing  this  way  and  that,  as  if  top-heavy. 

Frank  went  slowly  back  to  the  house,  feeling  quite 
lonely.  He  had  become  so  accustomed  to  Mr.  Mor 
ton's  companionship  that  his  departure  left  a  void 
which  he  hardly  knew  how  to  fill. 

As  he  reflected  upon  Mr.  Morton's  story  he  began 
to  feel  an  increased  uneasiness  at  the  mortgage  held 
by  Squire  Haynes  upon  his  father's  farm.  The  time 
was  very  near  at  hand  —  only  ten  days  off —  when 
the  mortgage  might  be  foreclosed,  and  but  half  the 
money  was  in  readiness. 

Perhaps,  however,  Squire  Haynes  had  no  intention 
of  foreclosing.  If  so,  there  was  no  occasion  for 
23 


266  FBANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OK, 

apprehension.  But  about  this  he  felt  by  no  means 
certain. 

He  finally  determined,  without  consulting  his 
mother,  to  make  the  Squire  a  visit  and  inquire  frank 
ly  what  he  intended  to  d.j.  The  Squire's  answer 
would  regulate  his  future  proceedings. 

It  was  Frank's  rule  —  and  a  very  good  one  too  — 
to  do  at  once  whatever  needed  to  be  done.  He  re 
solved  to  lose  no  time  in  making  his  call. 

"  Frank, "  said  his  mother,  as  he  entered  the  house, 
"  I  want  you  to  go  down  to  the  store  some  time  this 
forenoon,  and  get  me  half  a  dozen  pounds  of  sugar." 

«'  Very  well,  mother,  I'll  go  now.  I  suppose  it 
won't  make  any  difference  if  I  don't  come  back  for 
an  hour  or  two." 

•«  No,  that  will  be  in  time." 

Mrs.  Frost  did  not  ask  Frank  where  he  was  going. 
She  had  perfect  faith  in  him,  and  felt  sure  that  he 
would  never  become  involved  in  anything  discred 
itable. 

Frank  passed  through  the  village  without  stopping 
at  the  store.  He  deferred  his  mother's  errand  until 
his  return.  Passing  up  the  village  street,  he  stopped 
before  the  fine  house  of  Squire  Haynes.  Opening 
the  gate  he  walked  up  the  gravelled  path  and  rang 
the  bell. 

A  servant-girl  came  to  the  door. 

"  Is  Squire  Haynes  at  home?"  inquired  Frank. 

"  Yes,  but  he  's  eating  breakfast." 


THE  FARM  AND  IHE  CAMP.        267 

««  Will  he  be  through  soon?" 

"  Shure  and  I  think  so." 

"  Then  I  will  step  in  and  wait  for  him." 

"  Who  shall  I  say  it  is?" 

"  Frank  Frott." 

Squire  Haynes  had  just  passed  his  cup  for  coffee 
when  Bridget  entered  and  reported  that  Frank  Frost 
was  in  the  drawing-room  and  would  like  to  see  him 
when  he  had  finished  his  breakfast. 

"  Frank  Frost !  "  repeated  the  Squire,  arching  his 
eyebrows.  "  What  does  he  want,  I  wonder?" 

"  Shure  he  didn't  say,"  said  Bridget. 

"Very  well." 

"  He  is  Captain  of  the  boys'  company,  John,  is  n't 
he?"  asked  the  Squire. 

"  Yes,"  said  John,  sulkily.  4<  I  wish  him  joy  of 
his  office.  I  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with 
such  a  crowd  of  ragamuffins." 

Of  course  the  reader  understands  that  this  was 
"  sour  grapes  "  on  John's  part. 

Finishing  his  breakfast  leisurely,  Squire  Haynes 
went  into  the  room  where  Frank  was  sitting  patiently 
awaiting  him. 

Frank  rose  as  he  entered. 

"  Good  morning,  Squire  Haynes,"  he  said,  politely 
rising  as  he  spoke. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  the  Squire,  coldly. 
**  You  are  an  early  visitor." 

If  this  was  intended  for  a  rebuff,  Frank  did  not 
choose  to  take  any  notice  of  it. 


268  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

"  I  call  on  a  little  matter  of  business,  Squire 
Haynes,"  continued  Frank. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Squire,  seating  himself  in 
a  luxurious  arm-chair,  "  I  am  ready  to  attend  to 
you." 

"  I  believe  you  hold  a  mortgage  on  our  farm." 

Squire  Haynes  started.  The  thought  of  Frank's 
real  business  had  not  occurred  to  him.  He  had  hoped 
that  nothing  would  have  been  said  in  relation  to  the 
mortgage  until  he  was  at  liberty  to  foreclose,  as  he 
wished  to  take  the  Frosts  unprepared.  He  now  re 
solved,  if  possible,  to  keep  Frank  in  ignorance  of  his 
real  purpose,  that  he  might  not  think  it  necessary  to 
prepare  for  his  attack. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  indifferently;  "  I  hold  quite  a 
number  of  mortgages,  and  one  upon  your  father's 
farm  among  them." 

"  Isn't  the  time  nearly  run  out?"  asked  Frank, 
anxiously. 

«'  I  can  look  if  you  desire  it,"  said  the  Squire,  in 
the  same  indifferent  tone. 

"  I  should  be  glad  if  you  would." 

"  May  I  ask  why  you  are  desirous  of  ascertaining 
the  precise  date?"  asked  the  Squire.  "Are  you 
intending  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  ?  " 

"  No  sir,"  said  Frank.  «'  We  are  not  prepared  to 
do  so  at  present." 

Squire  Haynes  felt  relieved.  He  feared  for  a 
moment  that  Mr.  Frost  had  secured  the  necessary 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        269 

sum,  and  that  he  would  be  defeated  in  his  wicked 
purpose. 

He  drew  out  a  large  number  of  papers,  which  he 
rather  ostentatiously  scattered  about  the  table,  and 
finally  came  to  the  mortgage. 

"  The  mortgage  comes  due  on  the  first  of  July," 
he  said. 

"  Will  it  be  convenient  for  you  to  renew  it,  Squire 
Haynes?"  asked  Frank,  anxiously.  "  Father  being 
absent,  it  would  be  inconvenient  for  us  to  obtain  the 
amount  necessary  to  cancel  it.  Of  course  I  shall  be 
ready  to  pay  the  interest  promptly." 

"  Unless  I  should  have  sudden  occasion  for  the 
money,"  said  the  Squire,  "I  will  let  it  remain.  I 
don't  think  you  need  feel  any  anxiety  on  the  subject." 

With  the  intention  of  putting  Frank  off  his  guard, 
Squire  Haynes  assumed  a  comparatively  gracious 
tone.  This,  in  the  case  of  any  other  man,  would 
have  completely  reassured  Frank.  But  he  had  a 
strong  distrust  of  the  Squire,  since  the  revelation  of 
his  character  made  by  his  friend  Mr.  Morton. 

"  Could  you  tell  me  positively?"  he  asked,  still 
uneasy.      "  It  is  only   ten  days  now  to  the  first  of 
July,  and  that  is  little  enough  to  raise  the  money  in." 
"  Don't  trouble  yourself,"  said  the  Squire.     "  I 
said  unless  I  had  sudden  occasion  for  the  money,  be 
cause  unforeseen  circumstances    might   arise.      But 
as  I  have  a  considerable  sum  lying  at  the   bank,  I 
don't  anticipate  anything  of  the  kind." 
23* 


270  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

44  I  suppose  you  will  give  me  immediate  notice, 
should  it  be  necessary.  We  can  pay  four  hun 
dred  dollars  now.  So,  if  you  please,  the  new 
mortgage  can  be  made  out  for  half  the  present 
amount." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Squire,  carelessly.  "  Just 
as  you  please  as  to  that.  Still,  as  you  have  always 
paid  me  interest  regularly,  I  consider  the  investment 
a  good  one,  and  have  no  bbjection  to  the  whole  re 
maining." 

44  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Frank,  rising  to  go. 

Frank  took  his  hat,  and  bowing  to  the  Squire, 
sought  the  front  door.  His  face  wore  a  perplexed 
expression.  He  hardly  knew  what  to  think  about 
the  interview  he  had  just  had. 

44  Squire  Haynes  talks  fair  enough,"  he  solilo 
quized  ;  "  and  perhaps  he  means  what  he  says.  If 
it  hadn't  been  for  what  Mr.  Morton  told  me,  I 
should  have  confidence  in  him.  But  a  man  who  will 
betray  a  trust  is  capable  of  breaking  his  word  to  me. 
I  think  I'll  look  round  a  little,  and  see  if  I  can't 
provide  for  the  worst  in  case  it  comes." 

Just  after  Frank  left  the  house,  John  entered  his 
father's  presence. 

44  What  did  Frank  Frost  want  of  you,  father?" 
he  asked. 

44  He  came  about  the  mortgage." 

44  Did  he  want  to  pay  it?" 

*4  No,  he  wants  me  to  renew  it." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         271 

"  Of  course  you  refused." 

'*  Of  course  I  did  no  suot  thing.  Do  you  think  I 
am  a  fool  ?  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  agreed  to  renew 
it?"  demanded  John,  in  angry  amazement. 

Squire  Haynes  rather  enjoyed  John's  mystification. 

'»  Come,"  said  he,  "  I  'm  afraid  you'll  never  make 
a  lawyer  if  you  're  not  sharper  than  that  comes  to. 
Never  reveal  your  plans  to  your  adversary.  That 's 
an  important  principle.  If  I  had  refused,  he  would 
have  gone  to  work,  and  in  the  ten  days  between  now 
and  die  first  of  July,  he'd  have  managed  in  some 
way  to  scrape  together  the  eight  hundred  dollars. 
He  's  got  half  of  it  now." 

"  What  did  you  tell  him,  then?" 

44 1  put  him  off  by  telling  him  not  to  trouble  him 
self,  —  that  I  would  not  foreclose  the  mortgage 
unless  I  had  unexpected  occasion  for  the  money." 

44  Yes,  I  see,"  said  John,  his  face  brightening  at 
the  anticipated  disaster  to  the  Frosts.  "  You'll  take 
care  that  there  shall  be  some  sudden  occasion." 

44  Yes,"  said  the  Squire,  complacently.  "I'll 
have  a  note  come  due,  which  I  had  not  thought 
about,  or  something  of  the  kind." 

«O,  that'll  be  bully," 

"  Don't  use  such  low  words,  John.  I  have  repeat 
edly  requested  you  to  be  more  careful  about  your 
language.  By  the  way,  your  teacher  told  me  yester 
day  that  you  are  not  doing  as  well  now  as  for 
merly." 


272  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

"  O,  he'e  an  old  muff.  Besides,  he's  got  a  spite 
against  me.  I  should  do  a  good  deal  better  at 
another  school." 

*  *  We  '11  see  about  that.     But  I  suspect  he 's  partly 
right." 

"  Well,  how  can  a  feller  study  when  he  knows 
the  teacher  is  determined  to  be  down  upon  him  ?  " 

"  «  Feller  ! '  I  am  shocked  at  hearing  you  use  that 
word.  *  Down  upon  him,'  too  I  " 

*  *  Very  well ;  let  me  go  where  I  won't  hear  such 
language  spoken." 

It  would  have  been  well  if  Squire  Haynes  had 
been  as  much  shocked  by  bad  actions  as  by  low 
language. 

This  little  disagreement  over,  they  began  again  to 
anticipate  with  pleasure  the  effect  of  the  Squire's 
premeditated  blow  upon  the  Frosts. 

"  We'll  come  up  with  'em?  "  said  John,  with  in 
ward  exultation. 

Meanwhile,  though  the  Squire  was  entirely  un 
conscious  of  it,  there  was  a  sword  hanging  over  hia 
own  head. 


XXXI. 

SQUIRE    HAYNES    SPRINGS   HIS    TRAP. 

As  intimated  in  the  last  chapter,  Frank  determined 
to  see  if  he  could  not  raise  the  money  necessary  to 
pay  off  the  mortgage  in  case  it  should  be  necessary  to 
do  so. 

Faimer  Maynard  was  a  man  in  very  good  circum 
stances.  He  owned  an  excellent  farm,  which  yielded 
more  than  enough  to  support  his  family.  Probably 
he  had  one  or  two  thousand  dollars  laid  aside. 

"  I  think  he  will  help  me,"  Frank  said  to  himself, 
"  I'll  go  to  him." 

He  went  to  the  house,  and  was  directed  to  the 
barn.  There  he  found  the  farmer  engaged  in  mend 
ing  a  hoe-handle,  which  had  been  broken,  by  splic 
ing  it. 

He  unfolded  his  business.  The  farmer  listened 
attentively  to  his  statement. 

"  You  say  the  Squire  as  much  as  told  you  that  he 
would  renew  the  mortgage  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Well,  I  would  n't  trouble  my  self  then;  I've  no 
doubt  he  '11  do  it." 


274  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OB, 

"  He  said,  unless  he  should  have  some  sudden  oc 
casion  for  the  money." 

"  All  right.  He  is  a  prudent  man,  and  don't 
want  to  bind  himself.  That  is  all.  You  know  the 
most  unlikely  things  may  happen  ;  but  I  don't  believe 
the  Squire  '11  want  the  money.  He  's  got  plenty  in 
the  bank." 

"  But  if  he  should?" 

"  Then  he'll  wait,  or  take  part.  I  suppose  you 
can  pay  part." 

"  Yes,  half." 

'  *  Then  I  guess  there  won't  be  any  chance  of  any 
thing  going  wrong." 

"  If  there  should,"  persisted  Frank,  <k  could  you 
lend  us  four  hundred  dollars  to  make  up  the 
amount  ?  " 

"  I  'd  do  it  in  a  minute,  Frank,  but  I  haint  got  the 
money  by  me.  What  money  I  have  got  besides  the 
farm  is  lent  out  in  notes.  Only  last  week  I  let  my 
brother-in-law  have  five  hundred  dollars,  and  that 
leaves  me  pretty  short." 

"  Perhaps  somebody  else  will  advance  the  money," 
Baid  Frank,  feeling  a  little  discouraged  at  the  result 
of  his  first  application. 

"  Yes,  most  likely.  But  I  guess  you  won't  need 
any  assistance.  I  look  upon  it  as  certain  that  the 
mortgage  will  be  renewed.  Next  fall  I  shall  have 

o   o 

the  money,  and  if  the  Squire  wants  to  dispose  of  the 
mortgage,  I  shall  be  ready  to  take  it  off  his  hands." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         275 

Frank   tried  to  feel  that  he  was  foolish  in  appro 
hending  trouble  from  Squire  Haynes,  but  he  found  it 
impossible  to  rid  himself  of  a  vague  feeling  of  un 
easiness. 

He  made  application  to  another  farmer  —  an  inti 
mate  friend  of  his  father's  —  but  he  had  just  pur 
chased  and  paid  for  a  five-acre  lot  adjoining  his  farm 
and  that  had  stripped  him  of  money.  He  too  bade 
Frank  lay  aside  all  anxiety,  and  assured  him  that  his 
fears  were  groundless. 

With  this  Frank  had  to  be  content. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  foolish,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  '11 
try  to  think  no  more  about  it." 

He  accordingly  returned  to  his  usual  work,  and 
not  wishing  to  trouble  his  mother  to  no  purpose,  re 
solved  not  to  impart  his  fears  to  her.  Another 
ground  of  relief  suggested  itself  to  him.  Mr. 
Morton  would  probably  be  back  on  the  27th  of 
June.  Such  at  least  was  his  anticipation  when  he 
went  away.  There  was  reason  to  believe  that  he 
would  be  both  ready  and  willing  to  take  up  the 
mortgage,  if  needful.  This  thought  brought  back 
Frank's  cheerfulness. 

It  was  somewhat  dashed  by  the  following  letter 
which  he  received  a  day  or  two  later  from  his  absent 
friend.  It  was  dated  New  York,  June  25,  1863,., 
As  will  appear  from  its  tenor,  it  prepared  Frank  for 
a  further  delay  in  Mr.  Morton's  arrival. 


276  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

DEAR  FRANK  :  — 

I  shall  not  be  able  to  be  with  you  quite  as  soon 
as  J  intended.  I  hope,  however,  to  return  a  day  or 
two  afterwards  at  latest.  My  business  is  going  on 
well,  and  I  am  assured  of  final  success.  Will  you 
ask  your  mother  if  she  can  accommodate  an  acquaint 
ance  of  mine  for  a  day  or  two  ?  I  shall  bring  him 
with  me  from  New  York,  and  shall  feel  indebted  for 
the  accommodation. 

Your  true  friend, 

HENRY  MORTON. 

Frank  understood  at  once  that  the  acquaintance 
referred  to  must  be  the  clerk,  whose  evidence  was  so 
important  to  Mr.  Morton's  case.  Being  enjoined  to 
secrecy,  however,  he  of  course  felt  that  he  was  not 
at  liberty  to  mention  this. 

One  day  succeeded  another  until  at  length  the 
morning  of  the  thirtieth  of  June  dawned.  Mr.  Mor 
ton  had  not  yet  arrived  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
nothing  had  been  heard  from  Squire  Haynes. 

Frank  began  to  breathe  more  freely.  He  per 
suaded  himself  that  he  had  been  foolishly  apprehen 
sive.  "  The  Squire  means  to  renew  the  mortgage," 
he  said  to  himself,  hopefully. 

He  had  a  talk  with  his  mother,  and  she  agreed 
that  it  would  be  well  to  pay  the  four  hundred  dollars 
they  could  spare,  and  have  a  new  mortgage  made 
out  for  the  balance.  Frank  accordingly  rode  over 


THE   FARM    AJSD   THE    CAMP.  277 

to  Brandon  in  the  forenoon,  and  withdrew  from  the 
bank  the  entire  sum  there  deposited  to  his  father's 
credit.  This,  with  money  which  had  been  received 
from  Mr.  Morton  in  payment  of  his  board,  made  up 
the  requisite  amount. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  as  Mrs.  Frost 
was  sewing  at  a  front  window,  she  exclaimed  to 
Frank,  who  was  making  a  kite  for  his  little  brother 
Charlie,  '*  Frank,  there's  Squire  Haynes  coming  up 
the  road." 

Frank's  heart  gave  an  anxious  bound. 

"  Is  he  coming  here?"  he  asked,  with  anxiety. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  after  a  moment's  pause. 

Frank  turned  pale  with  apprehension. 

A  moment  afterwards  the  huge  knocker  was  heard 
to  sound,  and  Mrs.  Frost,  putting  down  her  work, 
smoothed  her  apron  and  went  to  the  door. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Mrs.  Frost,"  said  the  Squire, 
lifting  his  hat. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Squire  Haynes.  Won't  you 
walk  in?" 

"  Thank  you ;  I  will  intrude  for  a  few  minutes. 
How  do  you  do  ?  "  he  said,  nodding  to  Frank  as  he 
sntered.  | 

"  Pretty  well,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  Frank,  ner 
vously. 

T^ie  Squire,  knowing  the  odium  which  would  at 
tach  io  the  course  he  had  settled  upon,  resolved  to 
•how  the  utmost  politeness  to  the  family  he  was 
24 


278  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN  ;  OR, 

I 

fabout  to  injure,  and  justify  his  action  by  the  plea  of 
'necessity. 

"Take  a  seat,  Squire  Haynes,"  said  Mrs.  Frost. 
"  You'll  find  this  rocking-chair  more  comfortable." 

"I  am  very  well  seated,  thank  you.  I  cannot 
stop  long.  I  have  merely  called  on  a  matter  of 
business." 

"  About  the  mortgage?"  interrupted  Frank,  who 
could  keep  silence  no  longer. 

"  Precisely  so.  I  regret  to  say  that  I  have  urgent 
occasion  for  the  money,  and  shall  be  unable  to  renew 
it." 

"We  have  got  four  hundred  dollars,"  said  Mrs. 
Frost,  "  which  we  are  intending  to  pay." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  this  will  not  answer  my 
purpose." 

"  Why  did  you  not  let  us  know  before?"  asked 
Frank,  abruptly. 

"  Frank  !  "  said  his  mother,  reprovingly. 

"  It  was  only  this  morning  that  the  necessity 
arose.  I  have  a  note  due  which  must  be  paid." 

"  We  are  not  provided  with  the  money,  Squire 
|  Haynes,"  said  Mrs.  Frost.  "  If,  however,  you  will 
j£  wait  a  few  days,  we  can  probably  raise  it  among  our 
friends." 

"I  regret  to  say  that  this  will  not  do,"  said  the 
Squire.  "I  would  gladly  postpone  the  matter.  The 
investment  has  been  satisfactory  to  rne,  but  necessity 
knows  no  law." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        279 

Frank  was  about  to  burst  out  with  some  indignant 
exclamation,  but  his  mother,  checking  him,  said : 
44 1  think  there  is  little  chance  of  our  being  able  to 
pay  you  to-morrow.  May  I  inquire  what  course  you 
propose  to  take  ?  " 

4 '  It  will  be  my  painful  duty  to  foreclose  the  mort 
gage." 

44  Squire  Haynes,"  said  Frank,  boldly,  "  haven't 
you  intended  to  foreclose  the  mortgage  all  along? 
Had  n't  you  decided  about  it  when  I  called  upon  you 
ten  days  ago  ?  " 

44  What  do  you  mean  by  your  impertinence,  sir?  n 
demanded  the  Squire,  giving  vent  to  his  anger. 

44  Just  what  I  say.  I  believe  you  bear  a  grudge 
against  my  father,  and  only  put  me  off  the  other 
day  in  order  to  prevent  my  being  able  to  meet  your 
demands  to-morrow.  What  do  you  suppose  we  can 
do  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours  ?  " 

44  Madam!"  said  the  Squire,  purple  with  rage, 
44  do  you  permit  your  son  to  insult  me  in  this  man 
ner?" 

44  I  leave  it  to  your  own  conscience,  Squire 
Haynes,  whether  his  charges  are  not  deserved.  I 
do  not  like  to  think  ill  of  any  man,  but  your  course 
is  very  suspicious." 

44  Madam,"  said  Squire  Haynes,  now  thoroughly 
enraged,  4t  you  are  a  woman,  and  can  say  what  you 
please;  but  as  for  this  young  rascal,  I'll  beat  him 
within  an  inch  of  his  life  if  ever  I  catch  him  out  of 
your  presence." 


280  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OB, 

"  He  is  under  the  protection  of  the  laws,"  said 
Mrs.  Frost,  composedly,  "  which  you,  being  a 
lawyer,  ought  to  understand." 

"I'll  have  no  mercy  on  you.  I'll  sell  you  up 
root  and  branch,"  said  Squire  Haynes,  trembling 
with  passion,  and  smiting  the  floor  with  his  cane. 

"  At  all  events  the  house  is  ours  to-day,"  returned 
Mrs.  Frost,  with  dignity,  '*  and  I  must  request  you 
to  leave  us  in  quiet  possession  of  it." 

The  Squire  left  the  house  in  undignified  haste, 
muttering  threats  as  he  went. 

44  Good,  mother!"  exclaimed  Frank,  admiringly. 
"You  turned  him  out  capitally.  But,"  he  added, 
an  expression  of  dismay  stealing  over  his  face,  "  what 
shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  We  must  try  to  obtain  a  loan,"  said  Mrs.  Frost, 
"  I  will  go  and  see  Mr.  Sanger,  while  you  go  to  Mr. 
Perry.  Possibly  they  may  help  us.  There  is  no 
time  to  be  lost." 

An  hour  afterwards  Frank  and  his  mother  returned, 
both  disappointed.  Mr.  Sanger  and  Mr.  Perry  both 
had  the  will  to  help  but  not  the  ability.  There 
seemed  no  hope  left  save  in  Mr.  Morton. 

At  six  o'clock  the  stage  rumbled  up  to  the  gate. 

"  Thank  heaven!  Mr.  Morton  has  come!"  ex 
claimed  Frank,  eagerly. 

Mr.  Morton  got  out  of  the  stage,  and  with  him  a 
feeble  old  man,  or  such  he  seemed,  whom  the  young 
man  assisted  to  alight.  They  came  up  the  gravel 
walk  together. 


TILE   FARM   AND   THE    CAMP.  281 

"  How  do  you  do,  Frank?  "  he  said,  with  a  cheer 
ful  smile. 

*'We  are  in  trouble,"  said  Frank.  "  Squire 
Haynes  is  going  to  foreclose  the  mortgage  to 
morrow." 

"  Never  mind  !  "  said  Mr.  Morton.  "  We  will  be 
ready  for  him.  He  can't  do  either  of  us  any  more 
mischief,  Frank.  His  race  is  about  run." 

A  heavy  weight  seemed  lifted  from  Frank's  heart. 
For  the  rest  of  the  day  he  was  in  wild  spirits.  He 
asked  no  questions  of  Mr.  Morton.  He  felt  a  nrin 
confidence  that  all  would  turn  out  for  the  beet. 


xxxn. 

TURNING   THE    TABLES. 

THE  next  morning  Mr.  Morton  made  inquiries  of 
Frank  respecting  the  mortgage.  Frank  explained 
that  a  loan  of  four  hundred  dollars  would  enable  him 
to  cancel  it. 

"  That  is  very  easily  arranged  then,"  said  Henry 
Morton. 

He  opened  his  pocket-book  and  drew  out  four  crisp 
new  United  States  notes,  of  one  hundred  dollars 
each . 

"  There,  Frank,"  said  he  ;  "  that  will  loosen  the 
hold  Squire  Haynes  has  upon  you.  I  fancy  he  will 
find  it  a  little  more  difficult  to  extricate  himself  from 
my  grasp." 

"  How  can  I  ever  thank  you,  Mr.  Morton?" 
said  Frank  with  emotion. 

* '  It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  have  it  in  my 
power  to  be  of  service  to  you,  Frank,"  said  his  friend 
kindly. 

4 4  We  will  have  a  mortgage  made  out  to  you," 
continued  Frank. 

"Not  without  my  consent,  I  hope,"  said  Mr. 
Morton,  smiling. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        283 

Frank  looked  puzzled. 

"  No,  Frank,"  resumed  Mr.  Morton,  "I  don't 
caie  for  any  security.  You  may  give  me  a  simple 
acknowledgment  of  indebtedness,  and  then  pay  me 
at  your  leisure." 

Frank  felt  with  justice  that  Mr.  Morton  was  acting 
very  generously,  and  he  was  more  than  ever  drawn 
to  him. 

So  passed  the  earlier  hours  of  the  forenoon. 

About  eleven  o'clock  Squire  Haynes  was  observed 
approaching  the  house.  His  step  was  firm  and  elas 
tic,  as  if  he  rejoiced  in  the  errand  he  was  upon. 
Again  he  lifted  the  knocker,  and  sounded  a  noisy 
summons.  It  was  in  reality  a  summons  to  surrender. 

The  door  was  opened  again  by  Mrs.  Frost,  who 
invited  the  Squire  to  enter.  He  did  so,  wondering 
at  her  apparent  composure. 

"  They  can't  have  raised  the  money,"  thought  he, 
apprehensively.  '*  No,  I  am  sure  the  notice  was  too 
short." 

Frank  was  in  the  room,  but  Squire  Haynes  did 
not  deign  to  notice  him,  nor  did  Frank  choose  to 
make  advances.  Mrs.  Frost  spoke  upon  indifferent 
subjects,  being  determined  to  force  Squire  Haynes  to 
broach  himself  the  business  that  had  brought  him  to 
the  farm. 

Finally,  clearing  his  throat,  he  said:  "Well, 
madam,  are  you  prepared  to  cancel  the  mortgage 
which  I  hold  upon  your  husband's  farm  ?  " 


284  Fli^NK'S    CAMPAIGN  ;    OK, 


"  I  hope,"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  "you  will  give  us 
time.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  obtain  so  large  a  sura 
in  twenty-four  hours." 

44  They  have  n't  got  it,"  thought  the  Squire,  exult- 
ingly. 

"  As  to  that,"  he  said  aloud,  "  you  Jve  had  several 
years  to  get  ready  in." 

*  *  Have   you  no  consideration  ?      Remember    my 
husband's  absence,  and  that  I  am  unacquainted  with 
business." 

"I  have  already  told  you,"  said  the  Squire,  hastily, 
'*  that  I  require  the  money.  I  have  a  note  to  pay, 
and  —  " 

*  *  Can  you  give  us  a  week  ?  " 

"  No,  I  must  have  the  money  at  once." 

*  *  And  if  we  cannot  pay  ?  " 
"  I  must  foreclose." 

"Will  that  give  you  the  money  any  sooner?  I 
suppose  you  would  have  to  advertise  the  farm  for 
sale  before  you  could  realize  anything,  and  I  hardly 
thmk  that  can  be  accomplished  sooner  than  a  week 
hence." 

"  The  delay  is  only  a  subterfuge  on  your  part," 
said  the  Squire,  hotly.  "You  would  be  no  better 
prepared  at  the  end  of  a  week  than  you  are  now." 

"  No,  perhaps  not;"  said  Mrs.  Frost,  quietly. 

"  And  yet  you  ask  me  to  wait,"  said  the  Squire, 
indignantly.  "  Once  for  all,  let  me  tell  you  that  all 
entreaties  are  vain.  My  mind  is  made  up  to  fore 
close,  and  foreclose  I  will." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        285 

"Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  interrupted  Frank, 
with  a  triumphant  smile. 

"  Ha,  young  impudence  !  "  exclaimed  the  Squire, 
wheeling  round.  "  Who's  to  prevent  me,  I  should 
like  to  know  ?  " 

44 1  am,"  said  Frank,  boldly. 

The  Squire  fingered  his  cane  nervously.  He  was 
very  strongly  tempted  to  lay  it  on  our  hero's  back. 
But  he  reflected  that  the  power  was  in  his  hands,  and 
that  he  was  sure  of  his  revenge. 

44  You  won't  gam  anything  by  your  impertinence," 
he  said,  loftily.  "  I  might  have  got  you  a  place,  out 
of  pity  to  your  mother,  if  you  had  behaved  differently. 
I  need  a  boy  to  do  odd  jobs  about  the  house,  and  I 
might  have  offered  the  place  to  you." 

44  Thank  you  for  your  kind  intentions,"  said 
Frank,  "but  I  fear  the  care  of  this  farm  will  prevent 
my  accepting  your  tempting  offer." 

44  The  care  of  the  farm!"  repeated  the  Squire, 
angrily.  "  Do  you  think  I  will  delegate  it  to  you  ?  " 

«•  I  don't  see  what  you  have  to  do  about  it,"  said 
Frank. 

44  Then  you'll  find  out,"  roared  the  Squire.  "  I 
shall  take  immediate  possession,  and  require  you  to 
leave  at  once." 

44  Then  I  suppose  we  had  better  pay  the  mortgage, 
mother,"  said  Frank. 

44  Pay  the  mortgage  !  You  can't  do  it,"  said  the 
Squire,  exultingly. 


286  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

"  Have  you  the  document  with  you?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Frost. 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  Name  the  amount  due  on  it." 

"With  interest  eight  hundred  and  twenty -four 
dollars."  i 

"Frank,  you  may  call  in  Mr.  Morton  as  B 
witness." 

Mr.  Morton  entered. 

"  Now  Frank,  you  may  count  out  the  money." 

"  What !  "  stammered  the  Squire,  in  dismay,  "  can 
you  pay  it  ?  " 

"We  can." 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  so  in  the  first  place?  " 
demanded  Squire  Haynes,  his  wrath  excited  by  his 
bitter  disappointment. 

* '  I  wished  to  ascertain  whether  your  course  was 
dictated  by  necessity  or  a  desire  to  annoy  and  injure 
us.  I  can  have  no  further  doubt  about  it." 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  Squire  Haynes  was  com 
pelled  to  release  his  hold  upon  the  Frost  Farm,  and 
pocket  his  money.  He  had  never  been  so  sorry  to 
receive  money  before. 

This  business  over,  he  was  about  to  beat  a  hurried 
retreat,  when  he  was  suddenly  arrested  by  a  question 
from  Henry  Morton. 

' '  Can  you  spare  me  a  few  minutes,  Squire  Haynes  ?  " 

"  I  am  in  haste,  sir." 

"  My  business  is  important,  and  has  already  been 
too  long  delayed." 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         287 

"Too  long  delayed?" 

"  Yes,  it  has  waited  twelve  years." 

"  I  don't  understand  you,  sir,"  said  the  Squire. 

44  Perhaps  I  can  assist  you.  You  know  me  as 
Henry  Morton.  That  is  not  my  real  name." 

'  *  An  alias  1  "  sneered  the  Squire  in  a  significant 
tone. 

"Yes,  I  had  my  reasons,"  returned  the  young 
man,  unmoved. 

44 1  have  no  doubt  of  it." 

Henry  Morton  smiled,  but  did  not  otherwise  notice 
the  unpleasant  imputation. 

44  My  real  name  is  Richard  Waring." 

Squire  Haynes  started  violently,  and  scrutinized 
the  young  man  closely  through  his  spectacles.  His 
vague  suspicions  were  confirmed. 

44  Do  you  wish  to  know  my  business  with  you?" 

The  Squire  muttered  something  inaudible. 

44 1  demand  the  restitution  of  the  large  sum  of 
money  intrusted  to  you  by  my  father,  just  before  his 
departure  to  the  West  Indies,  —  a  sum  of  which  you 
have  been  the  wrongful  possessor  for  twelve  years." 

44  Do  you  mean  to  insult  me?"  exclaimed  the 
Squire,  bold  in  the  assurance  that  the  sole  evidence 
of  his  fraud  was  undiscovered. 

44  Unless  you  comply  with  my  demand  I  shall  pro 
ceed  against  you  legally,  and  you  are  enough  of  a 
lawyer  to  understand  the  punishment  meted  out  to 
that  description  of  felony." 


288  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OK, 

•'Pooh,  pooh!  Your  threats  won't  avail  you," 
said  the  Squire,  contemptuously.  "  Your  plan  is  a 
very  clumsy  one.  Let  me  suggest  to  you,  young 
man,  that  threats  for  the  purpose  of  extorting  money 
are  actionable." 

4  *  Do  you  doubt  my  identity  ?  " 

44  You  may  very  probably  be  the  person  you  claim 
to  be,  but  that  won't  save  you." 

44  Very  well.     You  have  conceded  one  point." 

He  walked  quietly  to  the  door  of  the  adjoining 
room,  opened  it,  and  in  a  distinct  voice  called 
44  James  Travers." 

At  the  sound  of  this  name,  Squire  Haynes  sank 
into  a  chair,  ashy  pale. 

A  man,  not  over  forty,  but  with  seamed  face,  hair 
nearly  white,  and  a  form  evidently  broken  with  ill 
health,  slowly  entered. 

Squire  Haynes  beheld  him  with  dismay. 

44  You  see  before  you,  Squire  Haynes,  a  man 
whose  silence  has  been  your  safeguard  for  the  last 
twelve  years.  His  lips  are  now  unsealed.  James 
Travers,  tell  us  what  you  know  of  the  trust  reposed 
in  this  man,  by  my  father." 

44  No,  no,"  said  the  Squire,  hurriedly.  *4  It — it 
is  enough.  I  will  make  restitution." 

*4You  have  done  wisely,"  said  Richard  Waring. 
(We  must  give  him  his  true  name.)  4*  When  will 
you  be  ready  to  meet  me  upon  this  business  ?  " 

**  To-morrow,"  muttered  the  Squire. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         289 

He  left  the  house  with  the  air  of  one  who  has  been 
crushed  by  a  sudden  blow. 

The  pride  of  the  haughty  had  been  laid  low,  and 
retribution,  long  deferred,  had  come  at  last. 

Numerous  and  hearty  were  the  congratulations 
which  Mr.  Morton  (1  mean  Mr.  Waring)  received 
upon  his  new  accession  of  property. 

"  I  do  not  care  so  much  for  that,"  he  said ;  "  but 
my  father's  word  has  been  vindicated.  My  mind  is 
now  at  peace." 

There  was  more  than  one  happy  heart  at  the  farm, 
that  night.  Mr.  Waring  had  accomplished  the  great 
object  of  his  life  ;  and  as  for  Frank  and  his  mother, 
they  felt  that  the  black  cloud  which  had  menaced 
their  happiness  had  been  removed,  and  henceforth 
there  seemed  prosperous  days  in  store.  To  cap  the 
climax  of  their  happiness,  the  afternoon  mail  brought 
a  letter  from  Mr.  Frost,  in  which  he  imparted  the 
intelligence  that  he  had  been  promoted  to  a  second 
lieutenancy. 

"  Mother,"  said  Frank,  "  you  must  be  very  dig" 
nified  now.  You  are  an  officer's  wife." 


XXXIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

THE  restitution  which  Squire  Haynes  was  com 
pelled  to  make,  stripped  him  of  more  than  half  his 
property.  His  mortification  and  chagrin  were  so 
great  that  he  determined  to  remove  from  Rossville. 
He  gave  no  intimation  where  he  was  going ;  but  it  is 
understood  that  he  is  now  living  in  the  vicinity  of 
Philadelphia,  in  a  much  more  modest  way  than  at 
Rossville. 

To  anticipate  matters  a  little,  it  may  be  said  that 
John  was  recently  examined  for  college,  but  failed  so 
signally  that  he  will  not  again  make  the  attempt. 
He  has  shown  a  disposition  to  be  extravagant,  which, 
unless  curbed,  will  help  him  run  through  his  father's 
diminished  property  at  a  rapid  rate  whenever  it  shall 
come  into  his  possession. 

The  Squire's  handsome  house  in  Rossville  was 
purchased  by  Henry  Morton  (I  must  still  be  allowed 
to  call  him  thus,  though  not  his  real  name).  He 
has  not  yet  taken  up  his  residence  there,  but  there  is 
reason  to  believe  that  erelong  there  will  be  a  Mrs. 
Morton,  to  keep  him  company  therein. 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.         291 

Not  long  since,  as  he  and  Frank  lay  stretched  out 
beneath  a  thick  branching  oak  in  the  front-yard  at  the 
farm,  Mr.  Morton  turned  to  our  hero  and  said, 
"  Are  you  meaning  to  go  to  college  when  your  father 
comes  home,  Frank?" 

Frank  hesitated. 

"I  have  always  looked  forward  to  it,"  he  said, 
"  but  lately  I  have  been  thinking  that  I  shall  have  to 
give  up  the  idea." 

"  Why  so?" 

"  Because  it  is  so  expensive  that  my  father  cannot, 
in  justice  to  his  other  children,  support  me  through  a 
four  years'  course.  Besides  you  know,  Mr.  Morton, 
we  are  four  hundred  dollars  in  your  debt." 

"  Should  you  like  very  much  to  go  to  college, 
Frank?" 

"  Better  than  anything  else  in  the  world." 

"  Then  you  shall  go." 

Frank  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  Don't  you  understand  me?"  said  Mr.  Morton. 
' '  I  mean  that  I  will  defray  your  expenses  through 
oollege." 

Frank  could  hardly  believe  his  ears. 

* '  You  would  spend  so  much  money  on  me  !  "  he 
exclaimed,  incredulously.  "Why  it  will  cost  a 
thousand  dollars." 

"  Very  well,  I  can  afford  it,"  said  Mr.  Morton. 
"  But  perhaps  you  object  to  the  plan." 

"  How  good  you  are  to  me,"  said  Frank,  impul- 


292  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OB, 

sively  seizing  his  friend's  hand.  "What  have  I 
done  to  deserve  so  much  kindness  ?  " 

"  You  have  done  your  duty,  Frank,  at  the  sacri 
fice  of  your  inclinations.  I  think  you  ought  to  be 
rewarded.  God  has  bestowed  upon  me  more  than  I 
need.  I  think  he  intends  that  I  shall  become  his 
almoner.  If  you  desire  to  express  your  gratitude, 
you  can  best  do  it  by  improving  the  advantages 
which  will  be  opened  to  you." 

Frank  hastened  to  his  mother  to  communicate  his 
brilliant  prospects.  Her  joy  was  scarcely  less  than 
his. 

"Do  not  forget,  Frank,"  she  said,  "who  it  i» 
that  has  raised  up  this  friend  for  you.  Give  Him 
the  thanks." 

There  was  another  whose  heart  was  gladdened 
when  this  welcome  news  reached  him  in  his  tent 
beside  the  Rappahannock.  He  felt  that  while  he 
was  doing  his  duty  in  the  field,  God  was  taking 
better  care  of  his  family  than  he  could  have  done  if 
he  had  remained  at  home. 


Before  closing  this  chronicle,  I  must  satisfy  the 
curiosity  of  my  readers  upon  a  few  points  in  which 
they  may  feel  interested. 

The  Rossville  Guards  are  still  in  existence,  and 
Frank  is  still  their  Captain.  They  have  already 
done  escort  duty  on  several  occasions,  and  once  they 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        293 

visited  Boston,  and  marched  up  State  Street  with  a 
precision  of  step  which  would  have  done  no  discredit 
to  veteran  soldiers. 

Dick  Bumstead's  reformation  proved  to  be  a  per 
manent  one.  He  is  Frank's  most  intimate  friend, 
and  with  his  assistance  is  laboring  to  remedy  the 
defects  of  his  early  education.  He  has  plenty  of 
ability,  and  now  that  he  has  turned  over  a  new  leaf, 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  predicting  for  him  a  useful 
and  honorable  career. 

Old  Mrs.  Pay  son  has  left  Rossville,  much  to  the 
delight  of  her  grandson  Sam,  who  never  could  get 
along  with  his  grandmother.  She  still  wears  for 
best  the  "  bunnit"  presented  her  by  Cynthy  Ann, 
which,  notwithstanding  its  mishap,  seems  likely  to 
last  her  to  the  end  of  her  natural  life.  She  still  has 
a  weakness  for  hot  gingerbread  and  mince  pie,  and 
though  she  is  turned  of  seventy  would  walk  a  mile 
any  afternoon,  with  such  an  inducement. 

Should  any  of  my  readers  at  any  time  visit  the 
small  town  of  Sparta,  and  encounter  in  the  street  a 
little  old  lady  dressed  in  a  brown  cloak  and  hood,  and 
firmly  grasping  in  her  right  hand  a  faded  blue  cotton 
umbrella,  they  may  feel  quite  certain  that  they  are  in 
the  presence  of  Mrs.  Mehitabel  Pay  son,  relict  of 
Jeremiah  Pay  son,  deceased. 

Little  Pomp  has  improved  very  much  both  in  his 
studies  and  his  behavior.  He  now  attends  school 
regularly,  and  is  quite  as  far  advanced  as  most  boys 
25* 


294  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN;  OR, 

of  his  age.  Though  he  is  not  entirely  cured  of  his 
mischievous  propensities,  he  behaves  "  pretty  well, 
considering,"  and  is  a  great  deal  of  company  to  old 
Chloe,  to  whom  he  reads  stories  in  books  lent  him  by 
Frank  and  others.  Chloe  is  amazingly  proud  of 
Pomp,  whom  she  regards  as  a  perfect  prodigy  of 
talent. 

"Lor'  bress  you,  missus,"  she  remarked  to  Mrs; 
Frost  one  day,  "  he  reads  jest  as  fast  as  1  can  talk. 
He's  an  awful  smart  boy,  dat  Pomp." 

"  Why  don't  you  let  him  teach  you  to  read, 
Chloe?" 

"  O  lor,  missus,  I  couldn't  learn  nohow.  I  ain't 
got  no  gumption.  I  don't  know  noffin'." 

'  *  Why  could  n't  you  learn  as  well  as  Pomp  ?  " 

"  Dat  ar  boy's  a  genus,  missus.  His  fader  was 
a  mighty  smart  nigger,  and  Pomp's  took  arter  him." 

Chloe's  conviction  of  her  own  inferiority,  and 
Pomp's  superior  ability  seemed  so  rooted  that  Mrs. 
Frost  finally  gave  up  her  persuasions.  Meanwhile, 
as  Chloe  is  in  good  health  and  has  abundance  of 
work,  she  has  no  difficulty  in  earning  a  comfortable 
subsistence  for  herself  and  Pomp.  As  soon  as  Pomp 
is  old  enough,  Frank  will  employ  him  upon  the 
farm. 

While  I  am  writing  these  lines  intelligence  has 
just  been  received  from  Frank's  substitute  at  the  seat 
of  war.  He  has  just  been  promoted  to  a  captaincy. 
In  communicating  this  he  adds :  '  *  You  may  tell 


THE  FARM  AND  THE  CAMP.        295 

Frank  that  I  am  now  his  equal  in  rank,  though  his 
commission  bears  an  earlier  date.  I  suppose  therefore 
I  must  content  myself  with  being  Captain  Frost,  Jr. 
I  shall  be  very  glad  when  the  necessities  of  the 
country  will  permit  me  to  lay  aside  the  insignia  of 
rank,  and  returning  to  Rossville,  subside  into  plain 
Henry  Frost  again.  If  you  ask  me  when  this  is  to 
be,  I  can  only  say  that  it  depends  on  the  length  of  our 

Struggle.        I   AM   ENLISTED    FOR   THE    WAR,    AND   I 

MEAN  TO  SEE  IT  THROUGH  I  Till  that  time  Frank 
must  content  himself  with  acting  as  my  substitute  at 
home.  I  am  so  well  pleased  with  his  management 
of  the  farm,  that  I  am  convinced  it  is  doing  as  well 
as  if  I  were  at  home  to  superintend  it  in  person. 
Express  to  Mr.  Waring  my  gratitude  for  the  gener 
ous  proposal  he  has  made  to  Frank.  I  feel  that 
words  are  inadequate  to  express  the  extent  of  our 
obligations  to  him." 


Some  years  have  passed  since  the  above  letter 
was  written.  The  war  is  happily  over,  and  Cap 
tain  Frost  has  returned  home  with  an  honorable 
record  of  service.  Released  from  duty  ^t  home, 
Frank  has  exchanged  the  farm  for  the  college 
hall ;  and  he  is  now  approaching  graduation,  one 
of  the  foremost  scholars  in  his  class.  He  bids 


296  FRANK'S  CAMPAIGN. 

fair  to  carry  out  the  promise  of  his  boyhood,  and 
in  the  more  varied  and  prolonged  Campaign 
which  manhood  opens  before  him  we  have  reason 
to  believe  that  he  will  display  equal  fidelity  and 
gain  an  equal  success. 


HORATIO  ALGER,  JR. 


The  enormous  sales  of  the  books  of  Horatio  Alger, 
Jr.,  show  the  greatness  of  his  popularity  among  the 
boys,  and  prove  that  he  is  one  of  their  most  favored 
writers.  I  am  told  that  more  than  half  a  million  copies 
altogether  have  been  sold,  and  that  all  the  large  circu 
lating  libraries  in  the  country  have  several  complete 
sets,  of  which  only  two  or  three  volumes  are  ever 
on  the  shelves  at  one  time.  If  this  is  true,  what  thou 
sands  and  thousands  of  boys  have  read  and  are  reading 
Mr.  Alger's  books!  His  peculiar  style  of  stories,  often 
imitated  but  never  equaled,  have  taken  a  hold  upon  the 
young  people,  and,  despite  their  similarity,  are  eagerly 
read  as  soon  as  they  appear. 

Mr.  Alger  became  famous  with  the  publication  of 
that  undying  book,  "Ragged  Dick,  or  Street  Life  in  New 
York."  It  was  his  first  book  for  young  people,  and  its 
success  was  so  great  that  he  immediately  devoted  him 
self  to  that  kind  of  writing.  It  was  a  new  and  fertile 
field  for  a  writer  then,  and  Mr.  Alger's  treatment  of  it 
at  once  caught  the  fancy  of  the  boys.  "Ragged  Dick" 
first  appeared  in  1868,  and  ever  since  then  it  has  been 
selling  steadily,  until  now  it  is  estimated  that  about 
200,000  copies  of  the  series  have  been  sold. 

— "Pleasant  Hours  for  Boys  and  Girls." 


A  writer  for  boys  should  have  an  abundant  sym 
pathy  with  them.  He  should  be  able  to  enter  into  their 
plans,  hopes,  and  aspirations.  He  should  learn  to  look 
upon  life  as  they  do.  Boys  object  to  be  written  down  to. 
A  boy's  heart  opens  to  the  man  or  writer  who  under 
stands  him. 
—From  "Writing  Stories  for  Boys,"  by  Horatio  Alger,  Jr. 


RAGGED   DICK    SERIES. 

6  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $6.C( 

Ragged  Dick.  Rough  and  Ready. 

Fame  and  Fortune.  Ben  the  Luggage  Boy. 

Mark  the  Match  Boy.  Rufus  and  Rose. 

TATTERED  TOM  SERIES— First   Series. 
4  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $4.00 

Tattered  Tom.  Phil  the  Fiddler. 

Paul  the  Peddler.  Slow  and  Sure. 

TATTERED  TOM  SERIES— Second  Series. 

4  vols.  $4.00 

Julius.  Sam's  Chance. 

The  Young  Outlaw.  The  Telegraph  Boy. 

CAMPAIGN  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $3.00 
Frank's  Campaign.                  Charlie  Codman's  Cruise. 

Paul  Prescott's  Charge. 

LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES— First  Series. 

4  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $4.00 
Luck  and  Pluck.                      Strong  and  Steady. 

Sink  or  Swim.  Strive  and  Succeed. 

LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES— Second  Series. 

4  vols.  $4.00 

Try  and  Trust.  Risen  from  the  Ranks. 

Bound  to  Rise.  Herbert  Carter's  Legacy. 

BRAVE  AND  BOLD  SERIES. 

4  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $4.00 

Brave  and  Bold.  Shifting  for  Himself. 

Jack's  Ward.  Wait  and  Hope. 

NEW    WORLD    SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $3.00 

Digging  for  Gold.    Facing  the  World.  In  a  New  World. 


VICTORY  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $3.00 

Only  an  Irish  Boy.  Adrift  in  the  City. 

Victor  Vane,  or  the  Young  Secretary. 

FRANK  AND   FEARLESS  SERIES. 
3  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $3.00 

Frank  Hunter's  Peril.  Frank  and  Fearless. 

The  Young  Salesman. 

GOOD  FORTUNE   LIBRARY. 

3  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $3.00 

Walter  Sherwood's  Probation.    A  Boy's  Fortune. 
The  Young  Bank  Messenger. 

HOW  TO  RISE  LIBRARY. 

3  vols.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  $3.00 

Jed,  the  Poorhouse  Boy.        Rupert's  Ambition. 
Lester's  Luck. 


THE  FAMOUS  STANDARD  JUVENILES 


Published  by 

THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO. 
Philadelphia 


EDWARD  S.  ELLIS. 

Edward  S.  Ellis,  the  popular  writer  of  boys'  books,  is 
a  native  of  Ohio,  where  he  was  born  somewhat  more 
than  a  half-century  ago.  His  father  was  a  famous 
hunter  and  rifle  shot,  and  it  was  doubtless  his  exploits 
and  those  of  his  associates,  with  their  tales  of  adven 
ture  which  gave  the  son  his  taste  for  the  breezy  back 
woods  and  for  depicting  the  stirring  life  of  the  early 
settlers  on  the  frontier. 

Mr.  Ellis  began  writing  at  an  early  age  and  his 
work  was  acceptable  from  the  first.  His  parents  re 
moved  to  New  Jersey  while  he  was  a  boy  and  he  was 
graduated  from  the  State  Normal  School  and  became  a 
member  of  the  faculty  while  still  in  his  teens.  He  was 
afterward  principal  of  the  Trenton  High  School,  a  trus 
tee  and  then  superintendent  of  schools.  By  that  time 
his  services  as  a  writer  had  become  so  pronounced  that 
he  gave  his  entire  attention  to  literature.  He  was  an 
exceptionally  successful  teacher  and  wrote  a  number  of 
text-books  for  schools,  all  of  which  met  with  high 
favor.  For  these  and  his  historical  productions,  Prince 
ton  College  conferred  upon  him  the  degree  of  Master 
of  Arts. 

The  high  moral  character,  the  clean,  manly  ten 
dencies  and  the  admirable  literary  style  of  Mr.  Ellis' 
stories  have  made  him  as  popular  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Atlantic  as  in  this  country.  A  leading  paper  re 
marked  some  time  since,  that  no  mother  need  hesitate 


to  place  in  the  hands  of  her  boy  any  book  written  by 
Mr.  Ellis.  They  are  found  in  the  leading  Sunday-school 
libraries,  where,  as  may  well  be  believed,  they  are  in 
wide  demand  and  do  much  good  by  their  sound,  whole 
some  lessons  which  render  them  as  acceptable  to  pa 
rents  as  to  their  children.  Nearly  all  of  the  Ellis  books 
published  by  The  John  C.  Winston  Company  are  re 
issued  in  London,  and  many  have  been  translated  into 
other  languages.  Mr.  Ellis  is  a  writer  of  varied  accom 
plishments,  and,  in  addition  to  his  stories,  is  the  author 
of  historical  works,  of  a  number  of  pieces  of  popular 
music,  and  has  made  several  valuable  inventions.  Mr. 
Ellis  is  in  the  prime  of  his  mental  and  physical  powers, 
and  great  as  have  been  the  merits  of  his  past  achieve 
ments,  there  is  reason  to  look  for  more  brilliant  pro 
ductions  from  his  pen  in  the  near  future. 


DEERFOOT  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Hunters  of  the  Ozark.  The  Last  War  Trail. 

Camp  in  the  Mountains. 

LOG  CABIN  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Lost  Trail.  Footprints  in  the  Forest. 

Camp-Fire  and  Wigwam. 

BOY  PIONEER  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Ned  in  the  Block-House.       Ned  on  the  River. 
Ned  in  the  Woods. 

THE  NORTHWEST  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Two  Boys  in  Wyoming.        Cowmen  and  Rustlers. 
A  Strange  Craft  and  its  Wonderful  Voyage. 

BOONE  AND  KENTON  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Shod  with  Silence.  In  the  Days  of  the  Pioneers. 

Phantom  of  the  River. 


WAR  CHIEF  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Red  Eagle.  Blazing  Arrow. 

Iron  Heart,  War  Chief  of  the  Iroquois. 

THE   NEW   DEERFOOT  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Deerfoot  in  the  Forest.         Deerfoot  on  the  Prairie. 
Deerfoot  in  the  Mountains. 

TRUE  GRIT  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Jim  and  Joe.  Dorsey,  the  Young  Inventor. 

Secret  of  Coffin  Island. 

GREAT  AMERICAN  SERIES. 

2  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $2.00 
Teddy  and  Towser;  or,  Early  Days  in  California. 

Up  the  Forked  River. 

COLONIAL  SERIES. 

3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 
An  American  King.                 The  Cromwell  of  Virginia. 

The  Last  Emperor  of  the  Old  Dominion. 

FOREIGN  ADVENTURE  SERIES. 
3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

Lost  in  the  Forbidden  Land.  River  and  Jungle. 

The  Hunt  of  the  White  Elephant. 

PADDLE    YOUR    OWN    CANOE    SERIES. 
3  vols.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  $3.00 

The  Forest  Messengers.  The  Mountain  Star. 

Queen  of  the  Clouds. 


TKe  R-o\mdabout   Library 

For 

Young  People 

THIS  WELL-KNOWN  SERIES  OF  BOOKS 

is  recognized  as  the  best  library  of  Copyright  Books 
for  young  people,  sold  at  popular  prices. 

THE  AUTHORS  represented  in  the  Roundabout 
Library  are  not  only  the  best  well-known  writers  of 
juvenile  literature,  but  the  titles  listed  comprise  the 
best  writings  of  these  authors, 

OVER  100  TITLES  are  now  in  this  Library  and 
all  new  titles  will  be  selected  with  the  same  care  as 
in  the  past,  for  stories  that  are  not  only  entertaining 
but  equally  instructive  and  elevating.  This  respect 
for  wholesome  juvenile  literature  is  what  has  made 
and  kept  the  Roundabout  Library  better  than  any 
other  library  of  books  for  Boys  and  Girls. 

OUR  AIM  is  to  maintain  the  supremacy  of  these 
books  over  all  others  from  every  viewpoint,  and  to 
make  the  superior  features  so  apparent  that  those  who 
have  once  read  one,  will  always  return  to  the 
Roundabout  Library  for  more. 

Bound  in  Extra  Cloth,  with  gold  title  and  ap 
propriate  cover  designs  stamped  in  colors, 
attractive  and  durable,  printed  on  the  best 
paper  from  large  clear  type.  Illustrated, 
I2mo. 

PRICE  PER.  VOLUME,  •  $  .75 

Catalogue  mailed  on  application  to  tne  Publishers. 

THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO.,  Publishers 

PHILADELPHIA 


FAMOUS  STANDARD  JUVENILES 

FOR  GIRLS 

A  GOOD  GIRL'S   BOOK   IS   HARD  TO   FIND  ! 

One  often  hears  the  above  quoted.  These  books  have 
stood  the  tests  of  time  and  careful  mothers,  and  will  be 
of  the  greatest  interest  to  girls  of  all  ages.  Free  from 
any  unhealthy  sensationalism,  yet  full  of  incident  and 
romance,  they  are  the  cream  of  the  best  girls'  books  pub 
lished.  These  volumes, each  one  well  illustrated,  carefully 
printed  on  excellent  paper,  substantially  bound  in  cloth, 
lamo. 

WAYS   AND  MEANS   LIBRARY.        By   Margaret 
Vandegrift.    4  vols $3  oo 

Queen's  Body  Guard.  Doris  and  Theodora. 

Rose  Raymond's  Wards.     Ways  and  Means. 
STORIES   FOR  GIRLS.     3  vols a  25 

Dr.  Gilbert's  Daughters. 

Marion  Berkley.  Hartwell  Farm. 

HONEST    ENDEAVOR    LIBRARY.          By  Lucy  C. 

Lillie.     3  vols $2   25 

The  Family  Dilemma.          Allison's  Adventures. 
Ruth  Endicott's  Way. 

MILBROOK  LIBRARY.    By  Lucy  C.  Lillie. 

4  vols $3   oo 

Helen  Glenn.  Esther's  Fortune. 

The  Squire's  Daughter.  For  Honor's  Sake. 

RECENT  SUCCESSES 

The  following,  though  of  recent  date,  have  at  once 
reached  such  a  height  of  popularity  that  they  can  already 
be  classified  as  standards.  75  cents  each. 

Lady  Green  Satin.     By  Baroness  Deschesney. 
Marion.Berkley.     By  Elizabeth  B.  Comins. 
Lenny,  the  Orphan.     By  Margaret  Hosmer. 
Family  Dilemma.     By  Lucy  C.  Lillie. 
Question  ^f  Honor.     By  Lynde  Palmer 
Girl's  Ordeal,  A.     By  Lucy  C.  Lillie. 

Elinor  Belden  ;  or  The  Step  Brothers.     By  Lucy  C.  Lillie. 
Where  Honor  Leads       By  Lynde  Palmer. 
Under  the  Holly.     By  Margaret  Hosmer. 

Two  Bequests.  The ;  or.  Heavenward  Led.     By  Jane  R.  Sommere. 
The  Thistles  of  Mount  Cedar.  '  By  Ursula  Tannenforst.        -    $1.25 
Catalogue  sent  on  application  to  the  Publisher 


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f  JAN  05  1995      i 

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U.C.BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


